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The Collected Works of William Morris

With Introductions by his Daughter May Morris

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She smiled, and toward the house made swiftly on
In triumph, even as though the game were won:
For, now his face was gone, she, blind with love,
Deemed but his honour she had got to move
From its high place, before his heart should fall
A prey unto her; e'en as when the wall
By many a stroke of stones is battered down,
And all may work their will upon the town.