They drained it to the lees--

Until in Tristram's knightly form
All joy for her seemed blent;
Until her cheek could only warm
Beneath his gaze intent;
Until her heart sought him apart,
Whoever came or went;

Until the potion did beget
An all-enduring spell;
Albeit Cornwall's king now met
And liked her fairness well,
And claimed her hand, while through the land
Rang sound of marriage bell;

Until, as fragrance from a flower,
True love outbrake control,
And dropped its sweetness as a shower
Of pearls, that threadless roll
To find their rest in some near nest;
Her home, Sir Tristram's soul!

And he, though frequent jousts he won;
Though many a valiant deed
Of prowess made his fame outrun
The claim of knightly creed;
Though maidens oft their glances soft
Bestowed in tenderest meed;

Though Brittany upon him prest
A bride, in gratitude
For service done; and though the quest
Of sacred grail subdued
His full heart-beat of smothered heat--
He loved but _Queen_ Isoude!

And now with holy vows all tossed
Of fever's frantic sway--
As mariner whose bark is crossed
Upon a peaceful way
By winds that lure from purpose pure
And well-meant plans bewray--

He bade a trusty servitor
To Cornwall's queen forthwith.
"Take this," he said, "and show to her
How great my languor, sith
This signet's round will not be found
To bear one hurted lith.

"Say that Sir Tristram prays her aid,
And so he prays not vain,
Let sails of silken white be made,
Whose gleam shall heal my pain,
As hither borne some favoring morn,
Love claims his own again!

"But if she yield no heed to these
Fond cravings of love's breath,
Then bearing on the burdened breeze
Let sail that shadoweth,
Of darkest dark, beshroud the bark,
A presage of my death."

So spake the Lord of Lyonesse,
And bode his joy or bale;
While jealous of her right to bless,
The wife Isoude, grown pale
As buds of light that shrink from night,
Made sad and lonely wail:

"Alas! all one the loss to me,
My lord alive or dead,
If life of his by sorcery
Of this fair queen be fed."
Then adding, "Be her answer _nay_,
Hope yet to hope is wed."