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The Collected Works of William Morris

With Introductions by his Daughter May Morris

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Now, when I looked at Nicholas
To see what he might think of this,
Upon the deck he sunken was
And now surely had come to bliss.
For with the singing of that song
His heart was broken, and he lay
Dead, nigh the place he sought so long:
Nor had the flush yet gone away

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Wherewith his aged face was lit
While he was telling me he knew
The place, and what belonged to it,
And that his wretched dream was true.
And now, Sirs, what more can I say?
To shore we rowed, the people thronged
About us, for it now was day,
Asking to whom the ship belonged.
And when we heard them speak these words
In the Greek tongue, that well we knew,
We prayed to see their King or Lords,
And straight they brought us unto you.

Picture of City (big)

And on the way to this great Hall,

The things our captain dreamed, we saw,
As many a garden girt with wall
And the green temple without flaw.
And through the door the images
Just showed, of Venus soft and sweet,
And tall Diana with white knees
Beneath her gown, and sandalled feet.
And now, Sirs, have ye heard our tale
And by what wild hope we were led,
And why we long ago set sail;
And everything has now been said—
But this: ye are of wealth and might
And we are few and aged folk;
Yet, Sirs, take heed, for by this light!
We will not die without a stroke;

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But if ye choose to give us life,
Then what we may do, that we will,
Though we are men of war and strife,
And in few crafts have gotten skill.
But tales of many lands we know,
And if some poor bread these be worth,
Gladly these pastimes would we show
As long as we may live on earth.
Sirs, pray you let us die in peace;
And so may God your country save,
And of your goods give great increase,
And every thing that you would have.