The Collected Works of William Morris With Introductions by his Daughter May Morris |
I. |
II. |
III, IV, V, VI. |
VII. |
IX. |
X. |
IV. |
XII. |
XIV. |
XV. |
XVI. |
XVII. |
XXI. |
XXIV. |
The Collected Works of William Morris | ||
But when he came anigh, beholding him,
She fell a-trembling in her every limb,
And kneeling to him held the young babe out,
And said: “O Sir, if, as I have no doubt,
In this strange land thou art a king and lord,
Speak unto me some comfortable word.
She fell a-trembling in her every limb,
And kneeling to him held the young babe out,
And said: “O Sir, if, as I have no doubt,
In this strange land thou art a king and lord,
Speak unto me some comfortable word.
“Born of a king who rules a lovely land,
I in my house that by the sea doth stand,
With all my girls, made merry on a day:
Now some of them upon the sands did play,
Dancing unto their fellows' minstrelsy;
And some it pleased upon sweet flowers to lie,
Ripe fruits around, and thence to look on them;
And some were fain to lift their kirtles' hem,
And through the shallows chase the fishes fleet;
But in this shallop would I have my seat
Alone, and holding this my little son,
And knowing not that my good days were done.
Now how it chanced, in sooth I cannot say,
But yet I think that one there was that day,
Who for some hidden cause did hate me sore,
Who cut the cord that bound me to the shore,
And soon amidst my helpless shrieks the boat,
Oarless and sailless, out to sea did float.
I in my house that by the sea doth stand,
With all my girls, made merry on a day:
Now some of them upon the sands did play,
Dancing unto their fellows' minstrelsy;
And some it pleased upon sweet flowers to lie,
Ripe fruits around, and thence to look on them;
And some were fain to lift their kirtles' hem,
And through the shallows chase the fishes fleet;
But in this shallop would I have my seat
Alone, and holding this my little son,
And knowing not that my good days were done.
Now how it chanced, in sooth I cannot say,
But yet I think that one there was that day,
188
Who cut the cord that bound me to the shore,
And soon amidst my helpless shrieks the boat,
Oarless and sailless, out to sea did float.
“But now that many a danger has been passed,
The Gods have sent me to your land at last,
Alive, indeed, but such-like as you see,
Cold and drenched through with washing of the sea,
Half-clad, and kneeling on an unknown land,
And for a morsel holding out my hand.”
The Gods have sent me to your land at last,
Alive, indeed, but such-like as you see,
Cold and drenched through with washing of the sea,
Half-clad, and kneeling on an unknown land,
And for a morsel holding out my hand.”
The Collected Works of William Morris | ||