Page:Tristram of Lyonesse and other poems (IA tristramoflyonesswinrich).pdf/217

18.

But the soul therein, the light that our souls follow,

Fires and fills the song with more of prophet’s pride,
More of life than all the gulfs of death may swallow,
More of flame than all the might of night may hide.
Though the whole dark age were loud and void and hollow,
Strength of trust were here, and help for all souls tried,
And a token from the flight of that strange swallow^[1]
Whose migration still is toward the wintry side.

19.

Never came such token for divine solution

From the oraculous live darkness whence of yore
Ancient faith sought word of help and retribution,
Truth to lighten doubt, a sign to go before.
Never so baptismal waters of ablution
Bathed the brows of exile on so stern a shore,
Where the lightnings of the sea of revolution
Flashed across them ere its thunders yet might roar.

1. Je suis une hirondelle étrange, car j’émigre,
   Du côté de l’hiver.
   Le Livre Lyrique, liii.