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The Collected Works of William Morris

With Introductions by his Daughter May Morris

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So it fell on a morn of springtide, as Sigmund sat on the sward

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By that ancient house of the Dwarf-kind and fashioned a golden sword,
By the side of the hidden river he saw a damsel stand,
And a manchild of ten summers was holding by her hand.
And she cried:
“O Forest-dweller! harm not the child nor me,
For I bear a word of Signy's, and thus she saith to thee:
‘I send thee a man to foster; if his heart be good at need
Then may he help thy workday; but hearken my words and heed;
If thou deem that his heart shall avail not, thy work is over great
That thou weary thy heart with such-like: let him wend the ways of his fate.’”