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North for a ship, but nothing is there now;
Or ships are all alike that are there now.”

“They are not all like this one,” Tristram said,
More to himself than to the white Isolt
Arming herself with blindness against fate,
“For there are trumpets blowing, as if a king
Were coming—and there’s a dragon on the sail.
One of King Arthur’s barges—by the Lord
In heaven, it is!—comes here to Brittany,
And for a cause that lives outside my knowledge.
Were this the King, we should have known of him.”

“What does it mean?” she whispered; and her words
Wavered as if a terror not yet revealed
Had flown already inland from that ship.

“God knows,” he said, “but it will not be long
Before we shall all know.” She followed him
Into her father’s castle, where the new
Looked ancient now; and slowly, after silence,
He left her waiting there at the same window
Where she had waited for so long before,
When she was looking always to the north;

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