The Collected Works of William Morris With Introductions by his Daughter May Morris |
![]() | I. |
![]() | II. |
![]() | III, IV, V, VI. |
![]() | VII. |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() | III. |
![]() | IV. |
![]() | VIII. |
![]() | IX. |
![]() | XI. |
![]() | XII. |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() | VIII. |
![]() | XIV. |
![]() | XVII. |
![]() | XIX. |
![]() | XX. |
![]() | XXVII. |
![]() | XXVIII. |
![]() | XXIX. |
![]() | XXX. |
![]() | XXXI. |
![]() | XXXIII. |
![]() | XLIII. |
![]() |
![]() | IX. |
![]() | X. |
![]() | XII. |
![]() | XIV. |
![]() | XV. |
![]() | XVI. |
![]() | XVII. |
![]() | XXI. |
![]() | XXIV. |
![]() | The Collected Works of William Morris | ![]() |
He stopped, for he beheld his wandering lord,
Who, drawing near, heard little of his word
And noted less; for in that haggard mood
Nought could he do but o'er his sorrows brood,
Whate'er they were; but now being come anigh,
He lifted up his drawn face suddenly,
And as the singer gat him to his feet,
His eyes Admetus' troubled eyes did meet,
As with some speech he now seemed labouring,
Which from his heart his lips refused to bring.
Then spoke the herdsman: “Master, what is this,
That thou, returned with honour to the bliss
The Gods have given thee here, still makest show
To be some wretch bent with the weight of woe?
What wilt thou have? What help there is in me
Is wholly thine, for in felicity
Within thine house thou still hast let me live,
Nor grudged most noble gifts to me to give.”
Who, drawing near, heard little of his word
And noted less; for in that haggard mood
Nought could he do but o'er his sorrows brood,
Whate'er they were; but now being come anigh,
He lifted up his drawn face suddenly,
And as the singer gat him to his feet,
96
As with some speech he now seemed labouring,
Which from his heart his lips refused to bring.
Then spoke the herdsman: “Master, what is this,
That thou, returned with honour to the bliss
The Gods have given thee here, still makest show
To be some wretch bent with the weight of woe?
What wilt thou have? What help there is in me
Is wholly thine, for in felicity
Within thine house thou still hast let me live,
Nor grudged most noble gifts to me to give.”
![]() | The Collected Works of William Morris | ![]() |