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. |
 | XXIV. |
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 | The Collected Works of William Morris |  |
E'en as she spoke, the keel had touched the sand,
And catching up her raiment in her hand,
She ran with speed, and gained the temple-close,
Made fragrant with that many-flowered white rose,
And o'er its daisied grass sped toward the beach;
But when her feet the wrinkled sand did reach,
There, nigh the ship, stood Jason all alone,
With spear-point turned from off the field unsown
As right and left he peered forth warily,
As though he thought some looked-for thing to see.
And catching up her raiment in her hand,
She ran with speed, and gained the temple-close,
Made fragrant with that many-flowered white rose,
And o'er its daisied grass sped toward the beach;
But when her feet the wrinkled sand did reach,
There, nigh the ship, stood Jason all alone,
With spear-point turned from off the field unsown
As right and left he peered forth warily,
As though he thought some looked-for thing to see.
But when he saw her hurrying him to meet,
With wild wind-tangled hair, and naked feet,
And outstretched hands, and scanty raiment black,
But for one moment did he start aback,
As if some guardian spirit of the land
Had come upon him; but the next, his hand
Had caught her slim wrist, and his mouth cried out:
“Ashore, O heroes! and no more have doubt
That all is well done which we wished were done
By this my love, by this the glorious one,
The saviour of my life, the Queen of Love,
To whom alone of all who are above,
Or on the earth, will I pour wine, or give
The life of anything that once did live.”
With wild wind-tangled hair, and naked feet,
And outstretched hands, and scanty raiment black,
But for one moment did he start aback,
As if some guardian spirit of the land
Had come upon him; but the next, his hand
Had caught her slim wrist, and his mouth cried out:
“Ashore, O heroes! and no more have doubt
That all is well done which we wished were done
By this my love, by this the glorious one,
250
To whom alone of all who are above,
Or on the earth, will I pour wine, or give
The life of anything that once did live.”
| The Collected Works of William Morris | |