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The Collected Works of William Morris

With Introductions by his Daughter May Morris

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Then Sigurd looked on the slayer, and never a word would speak:
Gemmed were the hilts and golden, and the blade was blue and bleak,
And runes of the Dwarf-kind's cunning each side the trench were scored:
But soft and sweet spake Regin: “How likest thou the sword?”