Page:Early poems of William Morris.djvu/179

 "Truly he cannot fail to know

My tender body waits him here;

And if he knows, I have no fear

For poor Jehane du Castel beau."

She took a sword within her hand,

Whose hilts were silver, and she sung,

Somehow like this, wild words that rung

A long way over the moonlit land:—

Gold wings across the sea!

Grey light from tree to tree,

Gold hair beside my knee,

I pray thee come to me,

Gold wings!

The red-bill'd moorhen dips.

Sweet kisses on red lips;

Alas! the red rust grips,

And the blood-red dagger rips,

Yet, O knight, come to me!

Are not my blue eyes sweet?

The west wind from the wheat

Blows cold across my feet;

Is it not time to meet

Gold wings across the sea?

White swans on the green moat,

Small feathers left afloat

By the blue-painted boat;

Swift running of the stoat;