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Morris, William, 1834-1896

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


He held it in his hand a while wondering where he could have seen
such like stuff before, that it should smite a pang into his heart,
and suddenly called to mind the little hall at Bourton Abbas
with the oaken benches and the rush-strewn floor, and this same
flower-broidered green cloth dancing about the naked feet of a fair damsel,
as she moved nimbly hither and thither dighting him his bever.
But his thought stayed not there, but carried him into the days
when he was abiding in desire of the love that he won at last,
and lost so speedily. But as he stood pondering he heard
Clement shouting to him from the garth-gate of that house.
So he leapt on his horse and rode up the slope into the garth and lighted
down by Clement; who fell to chiding him for tarrying, and said:
"There is peril in loitering outside this garth alone; for those Sons
of the Rope often lurk hard by for what they may easily pick up,
and they be brisk and nimble lads." "What ailed thee?" said Ralph.
"I stayed to look at a flower which called Upmeads to my mind."
"Yea lad, yea," quoth Clement, "and art thou so soft as that?
But come thou into the House; it is as I deemed it might be;
besides the House-warden and his wife there is no soul therein.
Thou shalt yet look on Mick Hangman's sons, as thou desirest."
So they went into the House, and men had all that they might need.
The warden was an old hoar man, and his wife well-stricken in years;
and after supper was talk of this and that, and it fell much,
as was like to be, on those strong-thieves, and Clement asked
the warden what he had seen of them of late.


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