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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"

She came up to him,
and laid her hand to his cheek and the golden locks of his head (for
he was bare-headed), and said to him, smiling:
'Gold-mane! thou badest me bear arms, and Folk-might also constrained
me thereto. Lo thou!'
Said Face-of-god: 'Folk-might is wise then, even as I am; and
forsooth as thou art. For bethink thee if the bow drawn at a venture
should speed the eyeless shaft against thy breast, and send me forth
a wanderer from my Folk! For how could I bear the sight of the fair
Dale, and no hope to see thee again therein?'
She said: 'The heart is light within me to-day. Deemest thou that
this is strange? Or dost thou call to mind that which thou spakest
the other day, that it was of no avail to stand in the Doom-ring of
the Folk and bear witness against ourselves? This will I not. This
is no light-mindedness that thou beholdest in me, but the valiancy
that the Fathers have set in mine heart. Deem not, O Gold-mane, fear
not, that we shall die before they dight the bride-bed for us.'
He would have kissed her mouth, but she put him away with her hand,
and doffed her helm and laid it on the grass, and said:
'This is not the last time that thou shalt kiss me, Gold-mane, my
dear; and yet I long for it as if it were, so high as the Fathers
have raised me up this morn above fear and sadness.


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