Page:Early poems of William Morris.djvu/126



Rapunzel, Rapunzel,

Wind up your hair!

See, on the marble parapet

The faint red stains with tears are wet;

The long years pass, no help comes yet

To free my golden hair.

For leagues and leagues I rode,

Till hot my armour grew,

Till underneath the leaves

I felt the evening dew.

Rapunzel, Rapunzel,

Weep through your hair!

And yet—but I am growing old,

For want of love my heart is cold,

Years pass, the while I loose and fold

The fathoms of my hair.

, in the morning

I have heard tales of men, who in the night

Saw paths of stars let down to earth from heaven,

Who follow'd them until they reach'd the light

Wherein they dwell, whose sins are all forgiven;