Page:Early poems of William Morris.djvu/77



All day long and every day, From Christmas-Eve to Whit-Sunday, Within that Chapel-aisle I lay, And no man came a-near.

Naked to the waist was I, And deep within my breast did lie, Though no man any blood could spy, The truncheon of a spear.

No meat did ever pass my lips. Those days—(Alas! the sunlight slips From off the gilded parclose, dips, And night comes on apace.)

My arms lay back behind my head; Over my raised-up knees was spread A samite cloth of white and red; A rose lay on my face.

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