The Collected Works of William Morris With Introductions by his Daughter May Morris |
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| XXIV. |
 | The Collected Works of William Morris |  |
For even as he spake they heard again
The smiting on the door, and as the sword
Leapt from the exile's sheath with his last word,
Again the cry, made dim by the thick door,
Smote on their ears:
The smiting on the door, and as the sword
Leapt from the exile's sheath with his last word,
Again the cry, made dim by the thick door,
Smote on their ears:
“Lycians, are ye no more
Within your guarded town? A voice we heard
As if of one who bade us not be feared—
He was a God belike, and no more men
Dwell in your town: ah, will ye open then?
Do ye not hear that noise upon the wind,
And do ye think that ye fair days shall find
If our red blood shall stain your ancient gate?”
Within your guarded town? A voice we heard
As if of one who bade us not be feared—
He was a God belike, and no more men
Dwell in your town: ah, will ye open then?
Do ye not hear that noise upon the wind,
And do ye think that ye fair days shall find
If our red blood shall stain your ancient gate?”
| The Collected Works of William Morris | |