Love, that is first and last of all things made, The light that has the living world for shade, The spirit that for temporal veil has on The souls of all men woven in unison,...
About the middle music of the spring Came from the castled shore of Ireland's king A fair ship stoutly sailing, eastward bound And south by Wales and all its wonders round...
Spring watched her last moon burn and fade with May While the days deepened toward a bridal day. And on her snowbright hand the ring was set While in the maiden's ear the song's word yet...
Fate, that was born ere spirit and flesh were made, The fire that fills man's life with light and shade; The power beyond all godhead which puts on All forms of multitudinous unison,...
Enough of ease, O Love, enough of light, Enough of rest before the shadow of night. Strong Love, whom death finds feebler; kingly Love, Whom time discrowns in season, seeing thy dove...
But all that year in Brittany forlorn, More sick at heart with wrath than fear of scorn And less in love with love than grief, and less With grief than pride of spirit and bitterness,...
A little time, O Love, a little light, A little hour for ease before the night. Sweet Love, that art so bitter; foolish Love, Whom wise men know for wiser, and thy dove...
But that same night in Cornwall oversea Couched at Queen Iseult's hand, against her knee, With keen kind eyes that read her whole heart's pain Fast at wide watch lay Tristram's hound Hodain,...