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The Collected Works of William Morris

With Introductions by his Daughter May Morris

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For twenty days we sailed away,
Due west past many lands we knew,
Till at the last before us lay
Stretched out, the landless sea and blue.

Edward on his galley at Sluse (big)

Still west we went, till the north-wind

Came on us, amid clouds and rain;
And so no longer could we find
Our true course, therefore were we fain
To strike sail, as we drove before
The wind that yet kept rising till
We thought we ne'er should see the shore
In life again, for good or ill.

96

Till as it happed the great wind fell
Even at its highest, and that past
We rode becalmed, and in the swell
Dipping our yard-arms; then at last
We saw stars, and as the wind
Rose light and fair, we steered north-west:
Then was the weather sweet and kind
As unto sailors at the best.
So passed ten days and it grew warm,
And warmer ever as we sailed;
And no man yet had come to harm
Spite of the storm. Now the wind failed
One evening just as the night fell,
And rose again about midnight,
And blew till morning fair and well,
Then saw we land as it grew light.
A long green coast dipped in the sea,
A wall of trees behind there was,
Under our ship's sides certainly
Clear showed the water green as glass.
Ah, how we sang and shouted then!
Never before such joy we had,
We were the happiest of all men,
Never again could we be sad.
Most grievous of all times is this
For wretches to remember now,
We thought then, Here begins our bliss—
Alas! for then began sorrow:
For ever as we coasted there
The fair young folk we looked to see
Our fellow dreamed of, and the fair
Long yellow beach and white city:

97

But we saw nought but trees and grass
And thereupon wild things playing
Around the sea as green as glass
And fish with many a scarlet ring.
Then doubting drew we near to land
With fainter hearts than heretofore;
With iron chain and hempen band
We made the ships fast to the shore.
Then said the Captain: “Good fellows,
This is a right fair land to see,
Deep grass, sweet streams and trees in rows,
And birds singing in every tree.
And yet no sign of man there is;
How good the sweet land of my dream
Must be, when such a land as this
Is left untilled of any team,
Without a man or house thereon!”
“Yet inland, Captain, let us go
And seek thereafter,” called out one,
“And sail at last if it be so
There are no folk. A grievous thing
It would be to sail back again
A year hence for this land seeking;
And well it might be then in vain.”
Yea, said we all, so it shall be,
And chose by lot nine of our men,
And sent them out by three and three
Well armed and victualled; said we then:
“A month here do we wait for you
Then sail away whate'er betide,
But that ye light on something new.”
This done we built our camp beside

98

That warm sea, and there many a day
We swam among the purple fish
And sported there in every way
That any man could think or wish.
Or in the woods went wandering
And lay beneath outlandish trees,
Heard strange new birds new carols sing
And thought of coming voyages.
Moreover there we held great feasts
Because the place was furnished well
With deer and goats and such like beasts
Whereof full many a head there fell;
Thereof also we made good store
Of salt meat for our voyages.
So passed the month along the shore
Nor saw we ought of those same threes.
Until one day, the time being past
We hauled the ships down to the sea
And broke the camp up, then at last
Three men came running hastily.
Far had they gone, but nothing seen
But trees and meadows fair enough,
And such beasts as with us had been.
No lion or bear, and nothing rough,
Hurtful or evil did they see,
Nothing but still the quiet land,
But of all fruits right great plenty
Whereof they carried some in hand.
A great river they came unto
And went along its bank, until
On the fifth day they saw it go
Into a cavern in a hill

99

With a great roar, as well might be.
Then up that hill they clomb and thence
Looked landward but did nothing see
But trees and meads until a fence
Of mountains rose against the sky.
They went thereto for three days more.
Then clomb the mountains easily;
Thence seaward could they see the shore,
Landward a fairer place than all
They yet had seen, a fair green plain
With trees and streams, yet like a wall
Far off the mountains rose again.
Therefore they crossed the plain, but when
They reached the top of this third range,
And saw no signs of any men
And saw the land with little change
Spread out beneath them as before,
They thought it good to turn straightway
Back to the ships. So to the shore
They came upon the thirtieth day.
“Fellows,” they said, “the land is good,
Nor is there anything to fear.
We are the first that have spilled blood
Even of beasts; none dwelleth here.”
But as they spoke a certain one
Came towards us between bush and bush
Out from the forest to the sun,
Holding a basket made of rush.
Thereto his hair was white as snow
And bent he walked as if with pain,
Yet as he neared us, did we know
Our fellow John the Long again

100

Who went from us both young and fair
And merry-hearted, a stout man,
Broad-shouldered and with yellow hair:
Half-dead he stood there bent and wan.
We pressed around him, but he said
No word, but stooping opened wide
The rushen basket, then as dead
Our hearts grew, when we saw inside
The heads of our two fellows lie
Bloody and cut off at the neck;
Then straight some cried out angrily
To have him forthwith to the deck
Of the chief ship and judge him there;
Some clashed their axes o'er his head;
But then beholding his white hair
And that he stood like one long dead,
Upright, but looking at nothing,
Their clamour died out suddenly.
For in our ears the words did ring
The priest spoke, of the isles that lie
Outside the world where devils be.
We thought, our fellows have been slain
And damned perchance most piteously,
And this one has been raised again
And sent to frighten us to death—
And little of that did it fail:
We stood scarce daring to draw breath
Or look around us, while the sail
Kept flapping in the rising wind,
And the noon sun was shining fair,
Till this thought came into my mind,
What if the night should find us here?

101

Then gasping to the ship I ran
And straight the others followed me
As sheep their leader, till no man
Was on the shore but only he.
No heed at all he seemed to take
As we the hawsers cut, and as
Some way the ships began to make
Leaving that land of trees and grass
Inhabited by fiends of Hell;
Nor did we ever after know
What things the other three befell
That erewhile with the rest did go.
Three days we sailed that land along
Ever with hearts right sore afraid
Till from the land the wind blew strong
And so the open sea we made.
This was the first day of those days
When we were sorry we had come
Far off from the green land-locked bays
And white-wood houses of our home.
But whitherward now should we steer,
What star should lead us now thereto?
Yea though our hearts should die with fear
No way but on ward could we go.
Yea call it onward if you will:
Whereto the wind blew there went we,
There was no use for strength or skill,
We were as boys blown out to sea.
 

It will be noticed that this incident does not occur in the poem here, though it is referred to later on. It was evidently to be added on revision, and is happily preserved in the published Prologue.