Page:Early poems of William Morris.djvu/43



Hot August noon—already on that day Since sunrise through the Wiltshire downs, most sad Of mouth and eye, he had gone leagues of way; Ay and by night, till whether good or bad

He was, he knew not, though he knew perchance That he was Launcelot, the bravest knight Of all who since the world was, have borne lance, Or swung their swords in wrong cause or in right.

Nay, he knew nothing now, except that where The Glastonbury gilded towers shine, A lady dwelt, whose name was Guenevere; This he knew also; that some fingers twine,

Not only in a man's hair, even his heart, (Making him good or bad I mean,) but in his life, Skies, earth, men's looks and deeds, all that has part, Not being ourselves, in that half-sleep, half-strife,