The Collected Works of William Morris With Introductions by his Daughter May Morris |
 | I. |
| II. |
| III, IV, V, VI. |
| VII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
 | XXI. |
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| III. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| X. |
| XVII. |
| XXIX. |
| XXXVI. |
| XXXVII. |
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| XXIV. |
 | The Collected Works of William Morris |  |
But she, swept onward by the hurrying stream,
Down in the east beheld a doubtful gleam
That told of dawn, so bent unto the oar
In terror lest her folk should wake before
Her will was wrought; nor failed she now to hear
From neighbouring homesteads shrilly notes and clear
Of waking cocks, and twittering from the sedge
Of restless birds about the river's edge;
And when she drew between the city walls,
She heard the hollow sound of rare footfalls
From men who needs must wake for that or this
While upon sleepers gathered dreams of bliss,
Or great distress at ending of the night,
And grey things coloured with the gathering light.
Down in the east beheld a doubtful gleam
That told of dawn, so bent unto the oar
In terror lest her folk should wake before
Her will was wrought; nor failed she now to hear
From neighbouring homesteads shrilly notes and clear
Of waking cocks, and twittering from the sedge
Of restless birds about the river's edge;
And when she drew between the city walls,
She heard the hollow sound of rare footfalls
From men who needs must wake for that or this
While upon sleepers gathered dreams of bliss,
Or great distress at ending of the night,
And grey things coloured with the gathering light.
So 'gainst the water-gate soft slid her prow,
And though nigh breathless, scarcely dared she now
To wait to moor her shallop to the stone,
Which yet she dared not leave; so this being done,
Swiftly by passages and stairs she ran,
Trembling and pale, though not yet seen by man,
Until to Jason's chamber door she came.
And though nigh breathless, scarcely dared she now
To wait to moor her shallop to the stone,
Which yet she dared not leave; so this being done,
Swiftly by passages and stairs she ran,
Trembling and pale, though not yet seen by man,
Until to Jason's chamber door she came.
| The Collected Works of William Morris | |