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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"

'
'O nay,' she said, 'but by the Portway must we go; the straightest
way to the Gate of Burgstead.'
In vain she spake, and knew not what she said; for even as he was
speaking he led her away, and her feet went as her will went, rather
than her words; and even as she said that last word she set her foot
on the first board of the foot-bridge; and she turned aback one
moment, and saw the long line of the rock-wall yet glowing with the
last of the sunset of midsummer, while as she turned again, lo!
before her the moon just beginning to lift himself above the edge of
the southern cliffs, and betwixt her and him all Burgdale, and Face-
of-god moreover.
Thus then they crossed the bridge into the green meadows, and through
the closes and into the garden of the Face and unto the Hall-door;
and other brides and grooms were there before them (for six grooms
had brought home brides to the House of the Face); but none deemed it
amiss in the War-leader of the folk and the love that had led him.
And old Stone-face said: 'Too many are the rows of bee-skeps in the
gardens of the Dale that we should begrudge wayward lovers an hour's
waste of candle-light.


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