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Index:Early poems of William Morris.djvu

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Title Early poems of William Morris
Author William Morris
Illustrator Florence Harrison
Year 1914
Publisher Dodge Publishing Company
Location New York
Source djvu
Progress Proofread—All pages of the work proper are proofread, but not all are validated
Transclusion Fully transcluded
OCLC 1042974887
Contents
  PAGE
THE DEFENCE OF GUENEVERE 1
KING ARTHUR'S TOMB 15
SIR GALAHAD, A CHRISTMAS MYSTERY 32
THE CHAPEL IN LYONESS 41
SIR PETER HARPDON'S END 47
RAPUNZEL 80
THE BLUE CLOSET 97
CONCERNING GEFFRAY TESTE NOIRE 101
A GOOD KNIGHT IN PRISON 111
GOLDEN WINGS 119
THE EVE OF CRECY 128
OLD LOVE 133
FATHER JOHN'S WAR SONG 136
THE GILLIFLOWER OF GOLD 139
THE JUDGMENT OF GOD 142
SHAMEFUL DEATH 148
THE SAILING OF THE SWORD 150
THE LITTLE TOWER 153
THE WIND 156
SPELLBOUND 160
THE TUNE OF SEVEN TOWERS 166
TWO RED ROSES ACROSS THE MOON 168
THE HAYSTACK IN THE FLOODS 170
WELLAND RIVER 176
RIDING TOGETHER 182
SIR GILES' WAR SONG 185
NEAR AVALON 186
PRAISE OF MY LADY 189
SUMMER DAWN 193
IN PRISON 194
LIST OF COLOURED PLATES
  PAGE

"… In that garden fair
Came Launcelot walking; this is true, the kiss
Wherewith we kissed in meeting that spring day,
I scarce dare talk of the remember'd bliss "

Frontispiece8

"And one of these strange choosing cloths was blue,
Wavy and long, and one cut short and red ;
No man could tell the better of the two"

2

"Guenevere! Guenevere!
Do you not know me, are you gone mad?'

22

"Rise up, and look and listen, Galahad"

36

How thief! thief! thief! so there, fair thief, so there

58

Suppose this had not happen'd after all;
I will lean out again and watch for news

78

My mother taught me prayers
To say when I had need

86

"O, sisters, cross the bridge with me,
My eyes are full of sand.
What matter that I cannot see,
If ye take me by the hand?"

100

Fair Jehane du Castel beau
Wore her wreath till it was dead

122

But she is a housewife good and wary,
And a great steel key hangs bright
From her gown, as red as the flowers in corn

136

Beneath an apple-tree our heads
Stretched out toward the sea

150

"Wind, wind! thou art sad, art thou kind?
Wind, wind, unhappy! thou art blind,
Yet still thou wanderest the lily-seed to find"

156

No one walks there now;
Except in the white moonlight
The white ghosts walk in a row

166

Then Godmar turn'd again and said:
"So, Jehane, the first fitte is read!
Take note, my lady, that your way
Lies backward to the Chatelet!"

174

My prison-bars are thick and strong,
I take no heed of any weather,
The sweet Saints grant I live not long

182

Pray but one prayer for me 'twixt thy closed lips,
Think but one thought of me up in the stars

192