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The Collected Works of William Morris

With Introductions by his Daughter May Morris

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So there on an eve is Sigurd in the ancient Niblung hall,
Where the cloudy hangings waver and the flickering shadows fall,
And he sits by the Kings on the high-seat, and wise of men he seems,
And of many a hidden marvel past thought of man he dreams:
On the Head of Hindfell he thinketh, and how fair the woman was,
And how that his love hath blossomed, and the fruit shall come to pass;
And he thinks of the burg in Lymdale, and how hand met hand in love,
Nor deems him aught too feeble the heart of the world to move;

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And more than a God he seemeth, and so steadfast and so great,
That the sea of chance wide-weltering 'neath his will must needs abate.