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The Collected Works of William Morris

With Introductions by his Daughter May Morris

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He shrank back from her wretchedly,
And dropped his hand and hung his head;

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“Nay, now I hate thee not,” she said—
“And who knows what may come to be
If thou but give mine own to me,
And free this trembling body here?
Wouldst thou rejoice if thou wert dear,
Dear unto me though far away,
And hope still fed thee day by day?”