With feverish face from morn till noon, And noon to middle-night she stoops From her high lattice; late and soon In search for him among the troops That come and go or loiter by. For there had come a dame, in garb Of pearls and samite, green of dye, A stately woman on a barb, From Camelot, who, looking round, Had sneered, "'Mid herdsmen and such craft This Tristram lives like any hound." Then as she shook her curls and laughed, And flashed on Isolt looks of scorn, Trailing her glimmering jewels past, "I met a madman yestermorn Within the forest. Wild, aghast He stood, all naked in the rain, 'Twas Tristram, he of Lyonesse, A good knight once, but now--" Again She laughed, then sneered.--And one might guess The thing she hinted in disdain. III So Isolt watched now: long she leant From her high tower that hapless dawn: Above her bloomed the firmament, Below, the world was dewy wan. She saw a long lake where the stags Came down to drink: and woods of pines Beyond which mountains loomed, whose crags,-- Gaunt guardians of Mark's boundary lines,-- Gray watch-towers, hawk-like, overhung; And 'mid the pines, wild, ivy-clung, She saw a castle lift its old Green walls of ruin, now a cave For bandits, and a robber-hold Of lust, beside a torrent's wave. Then o'er a bridge, whose granite arched The torrent's foam, she saw a knight,-- Behind whom spear-armed followers marched,-- Like Galahad, in glittering white, Ride from the forest-covered height. IV High on a barb whose trappings shone Inlaid with laton, gold of hue, Star-bright amid the dawn and dew; Proud on his lordly-stepping roan He rode, and seemed of chivalry The star, until he stood alone Before the Court and spoke his lie, And said,--(for him, too, heart and tongue, Mark's gold had bought)--"I saw him die. Alas! for one so brave and young! But better so than still to be A madman and a mockery!"-- Then smiled around the questioning Court As one who brought no ill report.... And she believed. And front to front With all her misery that eve,-- Which, sombre-visaged, o'er the mount, Above Day's burning bier did grieve And bow her melancholy star,-- With tearful eyes she watched the light Streak all the heaven with blood afar; And lingered far into the night, Lamenting at her casement-bar. V