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The Collected Works of William Morris

With Introductions by his Daughter May Morris

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She smiled; “Nay, then is beauty soon forgot;
Yet if I were a man, not old or wise,
Methinks I should remember wide grey eyes,
Lips like a scarlet thread, skin lily-white,
Round chin, smooth brow 'neath the dark hair's delight,
Fair neck, slim hands, and dainty limbs, well hid,
Since unto most of men doth fate forbid
To hold them as their own.”
A dark cloud spread
O'er Kiartan's face: “Sister, forbear,” he said;
“I am no lover; unto me but nought
Are these things grown.”
Nigher her face she brought
To his, and said: “And yet were I a man,
And noted how the love of me began
To move within the heart of such a maid
As Refna is, not soon her face would fade
From out my memory.”
“Nay, nay, nay, thou sayst
Fools' words,” he said, “and every word dost waste;
Who shall love broken men like unto me?”