Page:Tristram of Lyonesse and other poems (IA tristramoflyonesswinrich).pdf/96

 And lion-wise leapt on that kinsman knight And wrung forth of his felon hands with might The sword that should have slain him weaponless, And smote him sheer down: then came all the press All raging in upon him; but he wrought So well for his deliverance as they fought That ten strong knights rejoicingly he slew, And took no wound, nor wearied: then the crew Waxed greater, and their cry on him; but he Had won the chapel now above the sea That chafed right under: then the heart in him Sprang, seeing the low cliff clear to leap, and swim Right out by the old blithe way the sea-mew takes Across the bounding billow-belt that breaks For ever, but the loud bright chain it makes To bind the bridal bosom of the land Time shall unlink not ever, till his hand Fall by its own last blow dead: thence again Might he win forth into the green great main Far on beyond, and there yield up his breath At least, with God’s will, by no shameful death, Or haply save himself, and come anew Some long day later, ere sweet life were through. And as the sea-gull hovers high, and turns With eyes wherein the keen heart glittering yearns Down toward the sweet green sea whereon the broad noon burns, And suddenly, soul-stricken with delight, Drops, and the glad wave gladdens, and the light Sees wing and wave confuse their fluttering white,