The Collected Works of William Morris With Introductions by his Daughter May Morris |
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 | The Collected Works of William Morris |  |
Then had the sun set, and the whitening moon
Shone o'er the gardens where the brown bird's tune
Was quivering through the roses red and white,
And sweeter smelt the sweet flowers with the night;
But to the chamber where there lay alone
The wise Medea, up the faint grey stone
Two rose-trees climbed, along a trellis led,
And with their wealth of blossoms white and red
Another garden of the window made.
Shone o'er the gardens where the brown bird's tune
Was quivering through the roses red and white,
And sweeter smelt the sweet flowers with the night;
But to the chamber where there lay alone
The wise Medea, up the faint grey stone
Two rose-trees climbed, along a trellis led,
And with their wealth of blossoms white and red
Another garden of the window made.
So now the royal sisters, sore afraid,
Each with a taper in her trembling hand,
Before the fateful chamber-door did stand
And heard no noise; whereon Amphinome
Pushed at the door that yielded, and the three
Passing with beating hearts the oaken door,
Pressed noiseless feet upon the polished floor,
Reddening the moonshine with their tapers' light.
Each with a taper in her trembling hand,
Before the fateful chamber-door did stand
And heard no noise; whereon Amphinome
Pushed at the door that yielded, and the three
Passing with beating hearts the oaken door,
Pressed noiseless feet upon the polished floor,
Reddening the moonshine with their tapers' light.
There they beheld the caldron gleaming bright,
And on the floor the heap of raiment rent
That erst had hid the body old and bent;
And there a crystal phial they beheld
Empty, that once some wondrous liquor held;
And by the window-side asleep they saw
The Colchian woman, white without a flaw
From head to heel; her round arms by her side,
Her fair face flushed with sweet thoughts, as a bride
Who waits the coming of some well-loved man.
Softly she breathed, the while the moonlight ran
In silver ripples o'er her hair of gold.
And on the floor the heap of raiment rent
That erst had hid the body old and bent;
And there a crystal phial they beheld
231
And by the window-side asleep they saw
The Colchian woman, white without a flaw
From head to heel; her round arms by her side,
Her fair face flushed with sweet thoughts, as a bride
Who waits the coming of some well-loved man.
Softly she breathed, the while the moonlight ran
In silver ripples o'er her hair of gold.
| The Collected Works of William Morris | |