Explore "La Beale Isoud" by Madison Cawein on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
/ I. With bloodshot eyes the morning rose / Upon a world of gloom and tears; / A kindred glance queen Isoud shows -- / Come night, come morn, cease not her fears. / The fog-clouds whiten all the vale, / The sunlight draws them to its love; / The diamond dews wash ev'ry dale, / Where bays the hunt within the grove. / Her lute -- the one her touch he taught / To wake beneath the stars a song / Of swan-caught music -- is as naught / And on yon damask lounge is flung. / Down o'er her cheeks her hair she draws / In golden rays 'twixt lily tips, / And gazes sad on gloomy shaws / 'Neath which had often touched their lips.
/ II. With irised eyes, from morn to noon. / And noon to middle night she stoops / From her high lattice 'neath the moon, / Hoping to see him 'mid the groups / Of mail-swathed braves come jingling by. / And once there came a dame in weft / All pearl besprent, as when the sky / A springtide day hath wept and left / A stormy eve one flash of gems. / "Mid neatherds he's a naked waif / Unwitted," said she, lipping scorn: / And shook deep curls with a weak laugh / Tib clinked the gold thick in them worn.