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The Collected Works of William Morris

With Introductions by his Daughter May Morris

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So Thorolf rose unwillingly,
And round about his waist did tie
The case of bolts, and took adown
The mighty cross-bow tough and brown,
And in his strong belt set a knife
Lest he should come to closer strife,
And thereon, having drunk full well,
Went on his way, and thought to tell
A goodly tale at break of day.
Thus to the mead he gat, and lay
Close hidden in the hawthorn brake,
And kept but little time awake,
But on the sorrel slept as soft
As on his truckle in the loft,
Nor woke until the sun was high;
When looking thence full sleepily
He saw yet more of that fair field
So dealt with, that it scarce would yield
Much fodder to his father's neat
That summer-tide, of sour or sweet.
Then home he turned with hanging head,
And right few words that tide he said,
In answer to his father's scoff,
But toward the middenstead went off.