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The Collected Works of William Morris

With Introductions by his Daughter May Morris

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But close unto him did she stand,
And, reaching out her shapely hand,
Took his, and in strange searching wise
Gazed on him with imploring eyes;
And with the sweetness of that touch
And look, wrought fear and hope o'ermuch
Within him, and his eyes waxed dim,
And trembling sore in every limb,
He slid adown, and knelt, and said: