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Morris, William, 1834-1896

"The Roots of the Mountains; Wherein Is Told Somewhat of the Lives of the Men of Burgdale"

And he knew it not, nor saw it, though I
saw it.'
Her face grew troubled, and the tearful passion stirred within her.
But she held it aback, and said, as anyone might have said it:
'How wert thou in the Dale, mighty man? We saw thee not.'
He said: 'I came hither hidden in other semblance than mine own.
But meddle not therewith; it availeth nought. Let me say this, and
do thou hearken to it. I saw thee yesterday in the street, and thou
wert as the ghost of thine old gladness; although belike thou hast
striven with sorrow; for I see thee with a sword by thy side, and we
have been told that thou, O fairest of women, hast given thyself to
the Warrior to be his damsel.'
'Yea,' she said, 'that is sooth.'
He went on: 'But the face which thou bearedst yesterday against thy
will, amidst all the people, that was because thou hadst seen my
sister the Sun-beam for the first time, and Face-of-god with her,
hand clinging to hand, lip longing for lip, desire unsatisfied, but
glad with all hope.'
She laid hand upon hand in the lap of her gown, and looked down, and
her voice trembled as she said:
'Doth it avail to talk of this?'
He said: 'I know not: it may avail; for I am grieved, and shall be
whilst thou art grieved; and it is my wont to strive with my griefs
till I amend them.


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