The Collected Works of William Morris With Introductions by his Daughter May Morris |
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![]() | II. |
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![]() | The Collected Works of William Morris | ![]() |
192
Till fell the tears thereon like sudden rain,
For he was young, and might not love again
With so much pleasure, such sweet bitterness,
Such hope amid that new-born sharp distress
Of longing; half-content to love and yearn,
Until perchance the fickle wheel might turn.
![]() | The Collected Works of William Morris | ![]() |