Page:Tristram of Lyonesse and other poems (IA tristramoflyonesswinrich).pdf/89

 Yet still or soft or keen remembrance clung Close round her of the least word from his tongue That fell by chance of courtesy, to greet With grace of tender thanks her pity, sweet As running streams to men's way-wearied feet. And when between strange words her name would fall, Suddenly straightway to that lure's recall Back would his heart bound as the falconer's bird, And tremble and bow down before the word. 'Iseult'—and all the cloudlike world grew flame, And all his heart flashed lightning at her name; 'Iseult'—and all the wan waste weary skies Shone as his queen's own love-enkindled eyes. And seeing the bright blood in his face leap up As red wine mantling in a royal cup To hear the sudden sweetness of the sound Ring, but ere well his heart had time to bound His cheek would change, and grief bow down his head, 'Haply,' the girl's heart, though she spake not, said, 'This name of mine was worn of one long dead, Some sister that he loved:' and therewithal Would pity bring her heart more deep in thrall. But once, when winds about the world made mirth, And March held revel hard on April's birth Till air and sea were jubilant as earth, Delight and doubt in sense and soul began, And yearning of the maiden toward the man, Harping on high before her: for his word Was fire that kindled in her heart that heard,