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Morris, William, 1834-1896

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

And it seems to me that there
shall the mote be hallowed, though it may be not before nightfall.
But the mote done, we shall wend, the whole host of us, be we few or many,
down to Wulstead, where we shall fall in with my friend Clement Chapman,
and hear tidings. Thence shall we wend the dear ways I know into
the land where I was born and the folk amongst whom I shall die.
And so let St. Nicholas and All Hallows do as they will with us.
Deemest thou, friend, that this is the meaning of thy wise she-friend?"
The carle's eyes glittered, and he rose up and stood close by Ralph,
and said: "Even so she meant; and now I seem to see that but few of thy
riders shall be lacking when they turn their heads away from Upmeads
towards the strong-places of the Burg-devils that are hereabouts.
But tell me, Captain of the host, is that victual and bread that I see
on the board?"
Ralph laughed: "Fall to, friend, and eat thy fill; and here is wine withal.
Thou needest not to fear it. Wert thou any the worse of the wine that Thirly
poured into thee that other day?"
"Nay, nay, master," said the carle between his mouthfuls,
"but mickle the better, as I shall be after this: all luck to thee!
Yet see I that I need not wish thee luck, since that is thine already.
Sooth to say, I deemed I knew thee when I first set eyes on thee again.
I looked not to see thee more; though I spoke to thee words
at that time which came from my heart, almost without my will.


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