Page:Early poems of William Morris.djvu/138

 Pure green I love so. But the knight who died

Lay there for days after the other went;

Until one day I heard a voice that cried,

"Fair knight, I see Sir Robert we were sent

"To carry dead or living to the king."

So the knights came and bore him straight away

On their lance truncheons, such a batter'd thing,

His mother had not known him on that day,

But for his helm-crest, a gold lady fair

Wrought wonderfully.

And often rode together, doubtless where

The swords were thickest, and were loyal men,

Until they fell in these same evil dreams.

Yea, love; but shall we not depart from hence?

The white moon groweth golden fast, and gleams

Between the aspen stems; I fear—and yet a sense

Of fluttering victory comes over me,

That will not let me fear aright; my heart—

Feel how it beats, love, strives to get to thee,

I breathe so fast that my lips needs must part;

Your breath swims round my mouth, but let us go.