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The Collected Works of William Morris

With Introductions by his Daughter May Morris

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67

She wept about him tenderly
A long while, ere she might say aught;
Then she drew back, and some strange thought
Stirred in her heart belike, for she
Gazed at his splendour timidly,
(For the rude cloak to earth was cast,)
And whispered trembling at the last: