Explore "Isolt" by Madison Cawein on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
"_But when the queen, La beale Isoude heard these tidings shee made such / sorrow that shee was full nigh out of her minde, and so upon a day she / thought to slay herselfe, and never for to live after Sir Tristram's / death._" -- Le Morte d'Arthure.
/ I. The wild dawn flares o'er wood and vale, / O'er all the world she used to love: / Low on her couch it finds her pale, / The dawn that breaks with flame above. / Her lute, that once was all her care, / To which her love had often sung, / Upon a damask-covered chair / Now lies neglected and unstrung. / Back from her face her hair she throws, / Her heavy hair that falls and slips, / Then, rising, to the casement goes / With languid eyes and pallid lips.