The Collected Works of William Morris With Introductions by his Daughter May Morris |
I. |
II. |
III, IV, V, VI. |
VII. |
IX. |
X. |
XII. |
XIV. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
V. |
VI. |
VIII. |
IX. |
XI. |
XIII. |
XV. |
XVI. |
XVII. |
XIX. |
XX. |
XXII. |
XXVI. |
XXVII. |
XXVIII. |
XXIX. |
XXX. |
XXXI. |
XV. |
XVI. |
XVII. |
XXI. |
XXIV. |
The Collected Works of William Morris | ||
88
Now in the early June they deemed it good
That they should go unto a house that stood
On their chief river, so upon a day
With favouring wind and tide they took their way
Up the fair stream; most lovely was the time
Even amidst the days of that fair clime,
And still the Wanderers thought about their lives,
And that desire that rippling water gives
To youthful hearts to wander anywhere.
That they should go unto a house that stood
On their chief river, so upon a day
With favouring wind and tide they took their way
Up the fair stream; most lovely was the time
Even amidst the days of that fair clime,
And still the Wanderers thought about their lives,
And that desire that rippling water gives
To youthful hearts to wander anywhere.
So midst sweet sights and sounds a house most fair
They came to, set upon the river side,
Where kindly folk their coming did abide;
There they took land, and in the lime-trees' shade
Beneath the trees they found the fair feast laid,
And sat well pleased; but when the water-hen
Had got at last to think them harmless men,
And they with rest and pleasure and old wine,
Began to feel immortal and divine,
An elder spoke: “O gentle friends, the day
Amid such calm delight now slips away,
And ye yourselves are grown so bright and glad,
I care not if I tell you something sad;
Sad, though the life I tell you of passed by,
Unstained by sordid strife or misery;
Sad, because though a glorious end it tells,
Yet on the end of glorious life it dwells,
And striving through all things to reach the best
Upon no midway happiness will rest.”
They came to, set upon the river side,
Where kindly folk their coming did abide;
There they took land, and in the lime-trees' shade
Beneath the trees they found the fair feast laid,
And sat well pleased; but when the water-hen
Had got at last to think them harmless men,
And they with rest and pleasure and old wine,
Began to feel immortal and divine,
An elder spoke: “O gentle friends, the day
Amid such calm delight now slips away,
And ye yourselves are grown so bright and glad,
I care not if I tell you something sad;
Sad, though the life I tell you of passed by,
Unstained by sordid strife or misery;
Sad, because though a glorious end it tells,
Yet on the end of glorious life it dwells,
And striving through all things to reach the best
Upon no midway happiness will rest.”
The Collected Works of William Morris | ||