The Poetical Works of George Barlow In Ten [Eleven] Volumes |
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| XX. |
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| XXVIII. |
SONNET XXVIII
ISEULT
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 | The Poetical Works of George Barlow |  |
188
SONNET XXVIII
ISEULT
Of all sweet forms within the enchanted air
Of ancient legend, and of all sweet eyes,
Thy form and glances ever the sweetest rise.
To me thou art e'en than Guinevere more fair,
And more bewitching thy deep blue-black hair
Than gold wherein the heart of Lancelot lies:
Thy gaze, full of the light of Irish skies,
That woke love's rapture once, now wakes despair.—
Of ancient legend, and of all sweet eyes,
Thy form and glances ever the sweetest rise.
To me thou art e'en than Guinevere more fair,
And more bewitching thy deep blue-black hair
Than gold wherein the heart of Lancelot lies:
Thy gaze, full of the light of Irish skies,
That woke love's rapture once, now wakes despair.—
From Tristram's knightly harp until to-day
All singers own thee. When the great seas broke
Beside Tintagel, thy strong spirit spoke
And thy shape mingled with the sea-mists grey
That floated round me. Centuries pass away:
Thou art fair as when beside thee Tristram woke.
All singers own thee. When the great seas broke
Beside Tintagel, thy strong spirit spoke
And thy shape mingled with the sea-mists grey
That floated round me. Centuries pass away:
Thou art fair as when beside thee Tristram woke.
| The Poetical Works of George Barlow | |