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The Collected Works of William Morris

With Introductions by his Daughter May Morris

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Then long did Bodli Kiartan's face behold,
Striving for speech: then said, “Why speak'st thou so?
Twice over now I seem my deed to do,
Twice over strive to wake as from a dream,
That I, once happy, never real may deem,
So vile and bitter is it; may thy sword
If e'er we meet be sharper than thy word,
And make a speedy end of doubt and strife;
Fear not to take much from me, taking life!”