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. |
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| III. |
| VI. |
| IX. |
| XV. |
| XX. |
| XXIX. |
| XXXIV. |
| XXXVII. |
| XXXIX. | CHAPTER XXXIX. OF THE GREAT FOLK-MOTE: MEN TAKE REDE OF THE WAR-FARING, THE FELLOWSHIP, AND THE WARLEADER. FOLK-MIGHT TELLETH WHENCE HIS PEOPLE CAME. THE FOLK-MOTE SUNDERED.
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| XLI. |
| XLIV. |
| XLV. |
| XLVIII. |
| LI. |
| LV. |
| LVIII. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XXI. |
| XXIV. |
 | CHAPTER XXXIX. OF THE GREAT FOLK-MOTE: MEN TAKE REDE OF THE WAR-FARING, THE FELLOWSHIP, AND THE WARLEADER. FOLK-MIGHT TELLETH WHENCE HIS PEOPLE CAME. THE FOLK-MOTE SUNDERED.
The Collected Works of William Morris |  |
288
CHAPTER XXXIX. OF THE GREAT FOLK-MOTE: MEN TAKE REDE OF THE WAR-FARING, THE FELLOWSHIP, AND THE WARLEADER. FOLK-MIGHT TELLETH WHENCE HIS PEOPLE CAME. THE FOLK-MOTE SUNDERED.
[Songs extracted from the prose narrative.]
[“O Men of the Dale and the Sheepcotes, I will do as ye bid me do]
[Folk-might.]
“O Men of the Dale and the Sheepcotes, I will do as ye bid me do;
And fain were ye of the story if every deal ye knew.
But long, long were its telling, were I to tell it all:
Let it bide till the Cup of Deliverance ye drink from hall to hall.
And fain were ye of the story if every deal ye knew.
But long, long were its telling, were I to tell it all:
Let it bide till the Cup of Deliverance ye drink from hall to hall.
“Like you we be of the kindreds, of the Sons of the Gods we come,
Midst the Mid-earth's mighty Woodland of old we had our home;
But of older time we abided 'neath the mountains of the Earth,
O'er which the Sun ariseth to waken woe and mirth.
Great were we then and many; but the long days wore us thin,
And war, wherein the winner hath weary work to win.
And the woodland wall behind us e'en like ourselves was worn,
And the tramp of the hosts of the foemen adown its glades was borne
On the wind that bent our wheat-fields. So in the morn we rose,
And left behind the stubble and the autumn-fruited close,
And went our ways to the westward, nor turned aback to see
The glare of our burning houses rise over brake and tree.
But the foe was fierce and speedy, nor long they tarried there,
And through the woods of battle our laden wains must fare;
And the Sons of the Wolf were minished, and the maids of the Wolf waxed few,
As amidst the victory-singing we fared the wild-wood through.
Midst the Mid-earth's mighty Woodland of old we had our home;
But of older time we abided 'neath the mountains of the Earth,
O'er which the Sun ariseth to waken woe and mirth.
Great were we then and many; but the long days wore us thin,
And war, wherein the winner hath weary work to win.
And the woodland wall behind us e'en like ourselves was worn,
And the tramp of the hosts of the foemen adown its glades was borne
On the wind that bent our wheat-fields. So in the morn we rose,
And left behind the stubble and the autumn-fruited close,
And went our ways to the westward, nor turned aback to see
The glare of our burning houses rise over brake and tree.
But the foe was fierce and speedy, nor long they tarried there,
And through the woods of battle our laden wains must fare;
And the Sons of the Wolf were minished, and the maids of the Wolf waxed few,
As amidst the victory-singing we fared the wild-wood through.
“So saith the ancient story, that west and west we went,
And many a day of battle we had in brake, on bent;
Whilst here a while we tarried, and there we hastened on,
And still the battle-harvest from many a folk we won.
And many a day of battle we had in brake, on bent;
Whilst here a while we tarried, and there we hastened on,
And still the battle-harvest from many a folk we won.
“Of the tale of the days who wotteth? Of the years what man can tell,
While the Sons of the Wolf were wandering, and knew not where to dwell?
But at last we clomb the mountains, and mickle was our toil,
As high the spear-wood clambered of the drivers of the spoil;
And tangled were the passes and the beacons flared behind,
And the horns of gathering onset came up upon the wind.
So saith the ancient story, that we stood in a mountain-cleft,
Where the ways and the valleys sundered to the right hand and the left.
There in the place of sundering all woeful was the rede;
We knew no land before us, and behind was heavy need.
As the sword cleaves through the byrny, so there the mountain flank
Cleft through the God-kin's people; and ne'er again we drank
The wine of war together, or feasted side by side
In the Feast-hall of the Warrior on the fruit of the battle-tide.
For there we turned and sundered; unto the North we went
And up along the waters, and the clattering stony bent;
And unto the South and the Sheepcotes down went our sister's sons;
And O for the years passed over since we saw those valiant ones!”
While the Sons of the Wolf were wandering, and knew not where to dwell?
But at last we clomb the mountains, and mickle was our toil,
As high the spear-wood clambered of the drivers of the spoil;
And tangled were the passes and the beacons flared behind,
And the horns of gathering onset came up upon the wind.
289
Where the ways and the valleys sundered to the right hand and the left.
There in the place of sundering all woeful was the rede;
We knew no land before us, and behind was heavy need.
As the sword cleaves through the byrny, so there the mountain flank
Cleft through the God-kin's people; and ne'er again we drank
The wine of war together, or feasted side by side
In the Feast-hall of the Warrior on the fruit of the battle-tide.
For there we turned and sundered; unto the North we went
And up along the waters, and the clattering stony bent;
And unto the South and the Sheepcotes down went our sister's sons;
And O for the years passed over since we saw those valiant ones!”
[“Hearken a wonder, O Folk of the Field]
[Red-wolf.]
“Hearken a wonder, O Folk of the Field,
How they that did sunder stand shield beside shield!
How they that did sunder stand shield beside shield!
Lo! the old wont and manner by fearless folk made,
On the Bole of the Banner the brothers' hands laid.
On the Bole of the Banner the brothers' hands laid.
Lo! here the token of what hath betid!
Grown whole is the broken, found that which was hid.
Grown whole is the broken, found that which was hid.
Now one way we follow whate'er shall befall;
As seeketh the swallow his yesteryear's hall.
As seeketh the swallow his yesteryear's hall.
290
Seldom folk fewer to fight-stead hath fared;
Ne'er have men truer the battle-reed bared.
Ne'er have men truer the battle-reed bared.
Grey locks now I carry, and old am I grown,
Nor looked I to tarry to meet with mine own.
Nor looked I to tarry to meet with mine own.
For we who remember the deeds of old days
Were nought but the ember of battle ablaze.
Were nought but the ember of battle ablaze.
For what man might aid us? what deed and what day
Should come where Weird laid us aloof from the way?
Should come where Weird laid us aloof from the way?
What man save that other of Twain rent apart,
Our war-friend, our Brother, the piece of our heart.
Our war-friend, our Brother, the piece of our heart.
Then hearken the wonder how shield beside shield
The twain that did sunder wend down to the Field!”
The twain that did sunder wend down to the Field!”
[“It is sooth that my Brother sayeth, and that now again we wend]
[Folk-might.]“It is sooth that my Brother sayeth, and that now again we wend,
All the Sons of the Wolf together, till the trouble hath an end.
But as for that tale of the Ancients, it saith that we who went
To the northward, climbed and stumbled o'er many a stony bent,
Till we happed on that isle of the waste-land, and the grass of Shadowy Vale,
Where we dwelt till we throve a little, and felt our might avail.
Then we fared abroad from the shadow and the little-lighted hold,
And the increase fell to the valiant, and the spoil to the battle-bold,
And never a man gainsaid us with the weapons in our hands;
And in Silverdale the happy we gat us life and lands.
291
How we sowed and reaped destruction, and the Day of the overthrow:
How we leaned on the staff we had broken, and put our lives in the hand
Of those whom we had vanquished and the feeble of the land;
And these were the stone of stumbling, and the burden not to be borne,
When the battle-blast fell on us and our day was over-worn.
Thus then did our wealth bewray us, and left us wise and sad;
And to you, bold men, it falleth once more to make us glad,
If so your hearts are bidding, and ye deem the deed of worth.
Such were we; what we shall be, 'tis yours to say henceforth.”
| CHAPTER XXXIX. OF THE GREAT FOLK-MOTE: MEN TAKE REDE OF THE WAR-FARING, THE FELLOWSHIP, AND THE WARLEADER. FOLK-MIGHT TELLETH WHENCE HIS PEOPLE CAME. THE FOLK-MOTE SUNDERED.
The Collected Works of William Morris | |