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The Collected Works of William Morris

With Introductions by his Daughter May Morris

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Then glad they were, when such-like words they heard,
And yet some doubted and were sore afeard
That she had grown light-headed with her woe,
Dreading the time might come when she would throw
Her body on the ground and perish there,
Slain by her own hand mighty with despair.
Nathless the days more merrily went by,
And from that prison men heard minstrelsy,

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When nought but mourning, fisher-folk afeard
Who passed that way, in other times had heard.