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Morris, William, 1834-1896

"The Well at the World's End: a tale"

"
"Yea," she said, "so it is, and the little stream that runs
yonder beneath those cliffs, is making its way towards that
big river aforesaid, which is called the Swelling Flood.
Now true it is also that there are many tales about of the wars
and miseries that turned this land into a desert, and these may
be true enough, and belike are true. But these said tales have
become blended with the story of those aforesaid wars of the Land
of the Tower; of which indeed this desert is verily a part,
but was desert still in the days when I was Queen of the Land;
so thou mayst well think that they who hold me to be the cause
of all this loneliness (and belike Roger thought it was so)
have scarce got hold of the very sooth of the matter."
"Even so I deemed," said Ralph: "and to-morrow we shall cross the big river,
thou and I. Is there a ferry or a ford there whereas we shall come,
or how shall we win over it?"
She was growing merrier again now, and laughed at this and said:
"O fair boy! the crossing will be to-morrow and not to-day;
let to-morrow cross its own rivers; for surely to-day is
fair enough, and fairer shall it be when thou hast been fed
and art sitting by me in rest and peace till to-morrow morning.
So now hasten yet a little more; and we will keep the said
little stream in sight as well as we may for the bushes."
So they sped on, till Ralph said: "Will thy feet never tire, beloved?"
"O child," she said, "thou hast heard my story, and mayst well
deem that they have wrought many a harder day's work than this
day's.


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