Page:Early poems of William Morris.djvu/128

 Because it seem'd a dwelling for a queen,

No belfry for the swinging of great bells;

No bolt or stone had ever crush'd the green

Shafts, amber and rose walls, no soot that tells

Of the Norse torches burning up the roofs,

On the flower-carven marble could I see;

But rather on all sides I saw the proofs

Of a great loneliness that sicken'd me;

Making me feel a doubt that was not fear,

Whether my whole life long had been a dream,

And I should wake up soon in some place, where

The piled-up arms of the fighting angels gleam;

Not born as yet, but going to be born,

No naked baby as I was at first,

But an armed knight, whom fire, hate and scorn

Could turn from nothing: my heart almost burst

Beneath the beeches, as I lay a-dreaming,

I tried so hard to read this riddle through,

To catch some golden cord that I saw gleaming

Like gossamer against the autumn blue.

But while I ponder'd these things, from the wood

There came a black-hair'd woman, tall and bold,

Who strode straight up to where the tower stood,

And cried out shrilly words, whereon behold—

, from the tower

Rapunzel, Rapunzel,

Let down your hair!