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. |
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 | The Collected Works of William Morris |  |
But end comes to all earthly bliss,
And by his choice full short was his;
And in the morning grey and cold,
Beside the dais did she hold
His trembling hand, and wistfully
He, doubting what his fate should be,
Gazed at her solemn eyes that now,
Beneath her calm, untroubled brow,
Were fixed on his wild face and wan;
At last she said: “Oh, hapless man,
Depart! thy full wish hast thou had;
A little time thou hast been glad,
Thou shalt be sorry till thou die.
And by his choice full short was his;
And in the morning grey and cold,
Beside the dais did she hold
His trembling hand, and wistfully
He, doubting what his fate should be,
Gazed at her solemn eyes that now,
Beneath her calm, untroubled brow,
Were fixed on his wild face and wan;
At last she said: “Oh, hapless man,
Depart! thy full wish hast thou had;
A little time thou hast been glad,
177
“And though indeed, full fain am I
This might not be, nathless, as day
Night follows, colourless and grey,
So this shall follow thy delight,
Thy joy hath ending with last night—
Nay, peace! and hearken to thy fate.
This might not be, nathless, as day
Night follows, colourless and grey,
So this shall follow thy delight,
Thy joy hath ending with last night—
Nay, peace! and hearken to thy fate.
“Strife without peace, early and late,
Lasting long after thou art dead
And laid with earth upon thine head;
War without victory shalt thou have,
Defeat, nor honour shalt thou save;
Thy fair land shall be rent and torn,
Thy people be of all forlorn,
And all men curse thee for this thing.”
Lasting long after thou art dead
And laid with earth upon thine head;
War without victory shalt thou have,
Defeat, nor honour shalt thou save;
Thy fair land shall be rent and torn,
Thy people be of all forlorn,
And all men curse thee for this thing.”
She loosed his hand, but yet the King
Said: “Yea, and I may go with thee?
Why should we part? then let things be
E'en as they will!” “Poor man,” she said,
“Thou ravest; our hot love is dead,
If ever it had any life:
Go, make thee ready for the strife
Wherein thy days shall soon be wrapped;
And of the things that here have happed
Make thou such joy as thou mayst do;
But I from this place needs must go,
Nor shalt thou ever see me more
Until thy troubled life is o'er:
Alas! to say ‘farewell’ to thee
Were nought but bitter mockery.
Fare as thou mayst, and with good heart
Play to the end thy wretched part.”
Said: “Yea, and I may go with thee?
Why should we part? then let things be
E'en as they will!” “Poor man,” she said,
“Thou ravest; our hot love is dead,
If ever it had any life:
Go, make thee ready for the strife
Wherein thy days shall soon be wrapped;
And of the things that here have happed
Make thou such joy as thou mayst do;
But I from this place needs must go,
Nor shalt thou ever see me more
Until thy troubled life is o'er:
Alas! to say ‘farewell’ to thee
Were nought but bitter mockery.
Fare as thou mayst, and with good heart
Play to the end thy wretched part.”
| The Collected Works of William Morris | |