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. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XXI. |
| XXIV. |
 | The Collected Works of William Morris |  |
THE PEOPLE OF THE SHORE
Alas! my masters, by my head
Your hope was but a rotten reed.
What! and are not our fathers dead
Who battled once against the Mede
Your hope was but a rotten reed.
What! and are not our fathers dead
Who battled once against the Mede
Yet overlived it? Coming here,
Through many and many a woe they passed,
Oft were their hearts fulfilled of fear,
Yet found they rest and ease at last
Through many and many a woe they passed,
Oft were their hearts fulfilled of fear,
Yet found they rest and ease at last
Here in this land; great deeds they did
As many an ancient story saith;
Yet these also the earth has hid,
No man among them but found death.
As many an ancient story saith;
Yet these also the earth has hid,
No man among them but found death.
166
No doubt the Gods have sent you then
To a fair land and plenteous;
Of all the gifts they give to men
Not one have they withheld from us.
To a fair land and plenteous;
Of all the gifts they give to men
Not one have they withheld from us.
No doubt our gardens might entice
The very Gods themselves to leave
The happy woods of Paradise,
Nor once again thereafter grieve.
The very Gods themselves to leave
The happy woods of Paradise,
Nor once again thereafter grieve.
Their fields bright with unchanging May,
Pressed by the feet of Goddesses,
Are scarce more fair than are today
Our meadows set about with trees.
Pressed by the feet of Goddesses,
Are scarce more fair than are today
Our meadows set about with trees.
Here fields of corn and pleasant hills
Dotted with orchards shall ye see,
And sweet streams turning many mills,
And of all fruits right great plenty.
Dotted with orchards shall ye see,
And sweet streams turning many mills,
And of all fruits right great plenty.
By our fair-painted palaces
The green white-flowered rivers pass;
About our coasts the summer seas
Run bubbling up the slopes of grass.
The green white-flowered rivers pass;
About our coasts the summer seas
Run bubbling up the slopes of grass.
Oxen and sheep and horses go
About the merry water-meads,
Where herons, and long cranes thereto,
Lie hidden in the whispering reeds.
About the merry water-meads,
Where herons, and long cranes thereto,
Lie hidden in the whispering reeds.
Among all these the maidens play;
The fair white Goddess of the sea
Is little fairer made than they
In all her members certainly.
The fair white Goddess of the sea
Is little fairer made than they
In all her members certainly.
167
Like you, Sirs, am I chilled with eld,
Yet still I look on them with joy,
As Priam's Lords erewhile beheld
Fair Helen on the walls of Troy.
Yet still I look on them with joy,
As Priam's Lords erewhile beheld
Fair Helen on the walls of Troy.
Thereto our men are strong and brave
And hale and seldom wanting wit,
Many a good archer we have,
A little mark who well can hit,
And hale and seldom wanting wit,
Many a good archer we have,
A little mark who well can hit,
And cunning folk to make for us
The images of Gods and men,
And painted walls right beauteous,
And men to make us music, when
The images of Gods and men,
And painted walls right beauteous,
And men to make us music, when
Our hearts are full, and men to write
The stories of the past again,
And grave philosophers in white,
Leeches to heal us of our pain.
The stories of the past again,
And grave philosophers in white,
Leeches to heal us of our pain.
Thus under gentle laws we live
Well guarded, and in rest and peace,
And ever more and more we thrive,
And ever do our goods increase.
Well guarded, and in rest and peace,
And ever more and more we thrive,
And ever do our goods increase.
All things the Gods give to our hands,
Wisdom and strength, skill, great beauty,
A land that is the crown of lands—
Yet, therewithal, at last to die.
Wisdom and strength, skill, great beauty,
A land that is the crown of lands—
Yet, therewithal, at last to die.
O masters, here as everywhere,
All things begin, grow old, decay;
That groweth ugly that was fair,
The storm blots out the summer day.
All things begin, grow old, decay;
That groweth ugly that was fair,
The storm blots out the summer day.
168
The merry shepherd's lazy song
Breaks off before the lion's roar;
The bathing girls, white-limbed and long,
Half-dead with fear splash toward the shore
Breaks off before the lion's roar;
The bathing girls, white-limbed and long,
Half-dead with fear splash toward the shore
At rumour of the deadly shark;
Over the corn, ripe and yellow
The hobby stoops upon the lark,
The kestrel eyes the shrew below.
Over the corn, ripe and yellow
The hobby stoops upon the lark,
The kestrel eyes the shrew below.
The green snake in the apple-tree
Sits watching, as the shadows pass,
The feet of some Eurydice
Half-hidden by caressing grass.
Sits watching, as the shadows pass,
The feet of some Eurydice
Half-hidden by caressing grass.
The hoar frosts cut the flowers down,
The cold north wind dries up the blood;
The glassy streams grow dull and brown,
Tormented by the winter flood.
The cold north wind dries up the blood;
The glassy streams grow dull and brown,
Tormented by the winter flood.
And friends fall off and pleasures cease
As grey hairs grow upon the head,
And weariness doth so increase
We have the heart to wish us dead—
As grey hairs grow upon the head,
And weariness doth so increase
We have the heart to wish us dead—
Masters, your hope that this could be,
To live for ever anywhere
Has brought sad longings strange to me,
Sad thoughts, my heart can hardly bear.
To live for ever anywhere
Has brought sad longings strange to me,
Sad thoughts, my heart can hardly bear.
And sad words from my lips have gone
Unmeet for ancient folk to say;
Pray you forget them, ye have won
Life sweet and peaceful from today.
Unmeet for ancient folk to say;
Pray you forget them, ye have won
Life sweet and peaceful from today.
169
The Gods have sent you here to us—
The land you sought for, did you know,
A fair land and a plenteous:
Henceforth ye shall not reap nor sow,
The land you sought for, did you know,
A fair land and a plenteous:
Henceforth ye shall not reap nor sow,
Nor spin nor weave, nor labour aught,
But ever all things shall ye have
That can by any man be sought;
And may the Gods your dear lives save
But ever all things shall ye have
That can by any man be sought;
And may the Gods your dear lives save
Many a year yet; and as priests
Of some revered God shall ye be,
And sit with us at all our feasts,
And houses have in our city
Of some revered God shall ye be,
And sit with us at all our feasts,
And houses have in our city
With most fair gardens. Ye shall tell
What lore ye have of your country,
And other things ye know as well;
And how lands great are grown to be
What lore ye have of your country,
And other things ye know as well;
And how lands great are grown to be
Our fathers knew not, when they fled
Before the face of the Great King:
And what lands are become as dead
That in their time were flourishing.
Before the face of the Great King:
And what lands are become as dead
That in their time were flourishing.
Yea, and fair Sirs, we fain would know
Who is your God of whom ye speak;
And of the Romans shall ye show,
And ye shall tell us of the Greek
Who is your God of whom ye speak;
And of the Romans shall ye show,
And ye shall tell us of the Greek
Who reigns at Byzant, as ye say;
And what of Sparta is become
And Athens, and the lands that lay
In ancient days about our home.
And what of Sparta is become
And Athens, and the lands that lay
In ancient days about our home.
170
And then in answer will we tell
Of countries that ye never knew,
Of towns, that having long stood well,
The Gods in anger overthrew;
Of countries that ye never knew,
Of towns, that having long stood well,
The Gods in anger overthrew;
Of kings, who in their tyranny
Were mighty once, but fell at last;
Of merchants rich as men could be,
And yet one day their wealth was past.
Were mighty once, but fell at last;
Of merchants rich as men could be,
And yet one day their wealth was past.
The voyage for the Golden Fleece,
The Doom of King Acrisius
And how the Gods gave Psyche peace—
These stories shall ye hear from us;
The Doom of King Acrisius
And how the Gods gave Psyche peace—
These stories shall ye hear from us;
And many another, that shall make
Your life seem but a story too,
So that no more your hearts shall ache
With thought of all ye might not do.
Your life seem but a story too,
So that no more your hearts shall ache
With thought of all ye might not do.
Ye shall be shown how vain it is
To strive against the Gods and Fate,
And that no man may look for bliss
Without an ending soon or late.
To strive against the Gods and Fate,
And that no man may look for bliss
Without an ending soon or late.
But what is in our hands to give
That shall ye have: and now again
We pray the Gods, long may ye live,
And fall asleep with little pain.
That shall ye have: and now again
We pray the Gods, long may ye live,
And fall asleep with little pain.
| The Collected Works of William Morris | |