The Collected Works of William Morris With Introductions by his Daughter May Morris |
 | I. |
| II. |
| III, IV, V, VI. |
 | VII. |
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| XIV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIV. |
| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. |
| XXXI. |
| XXXVII. |
| XL. |
| XLVII. |
| XLVIII. |
| LII. |
| LIV. |
| LVII. |
| LIX. |
| LXI. |
| LXII. |
| LXIII. |
| LXVI. |
| LXXIV. |
| LXXVII. |
| LXXXII. |
| LXXXVI. |
| XC. |
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| VIII. |
| XIV. |
| XVII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
| XXX. |
| XXXI. |
| XXXIII. |
| XLIII. |
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| IX. |
| X. |
| XII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XXI. |
| XXIV. |
 | The Collected Works of William Morris |  |
Ten years have passed, since in the market-place
The hero stood with flushed and conquering face,
And life before him like one happy day;
But many an hour thereof has passed away
In mingled trouble and felicity.
And now at Corinth, kissed by either sea,
He dwells, not governed now nor governing,
Since there his kinsman Creon is a king.
The hero stood with flushed and conquering face,
And life before him like one happy day;
But many an hour thereof has passed away
In mingled trouble and felicity.
And now at Corinth, kissed by either sea,
He dwells, not governed now nor governing,
Since there his kinsman Creon is a king.
And with him still abides the Colchian
But little changed, since o'er the waters wan
She gazed upon the mountains that she knew
Still lessening as the plunging Argo flew
Over the billows on the way to Greece.
But in these ten sweet years of rest and peace
Two fair man-children hath she borne to him,
Who, joyous fair of face and strong of limb,
Full oft shall hear the glorious story told
Of Argo and the well-won Fleece of Gold,
By some old mariner; and oft shall go
Where nigh the sea the wind-swept beech-trees grow,
And with a grey old woman tending them,
Shall make an Æa of some beech-tree's stem,
About whose roots there stands the water black.
Nor of the fleece shall they have any lack,
For in the bushes hangs much tangled wool
From wandering sheep who seek the shadow cool;
And for the dragon shall there be thereby
A many-coloured snake with glazed dull eye,
Slain by the shepherd; so shall pass their days,
Whom folk look soon to gather wealth and praise.
But little changed, since o'er the waters wan
She gazed upon the mountains that she knew
Still lessening as the plunging Argo flew
Over the billows on the way to Greece.
But in these ten sweet years of rest and peace
Two fair man-children hath she borne to him,
Who, joyous fair of face and strong of limb,
Full oft shall hear the glorious story told
Of Argo and the well-won Fleece of Gold,
By some old mariner; and oft shall go
Where nigh the sea the wind-swept beech-trees grow,
And with a grey old woman tending them,
Shall make an Æa of some beech-tree's stem,
About whose roots there stands the water black.
Nor of the fleece shall they have any lack,
For in the bushes hangs much tangled wool
From wandering sheep who seek the shadow cool;
And for the dragon shall there be thereby
A many-coloured snake with glazed dull eye,
Slain by the shepherd; so shall pass their days,
Whom folk look soon to gather wealth and praise.
| The Collected Works of William Morris | |