Page:Early poems of William Morris.djvu/82



There comes no sleep nor any love; Ah me! I shiver with delight. I am so weak I cannot move; God move me to thee, dear, to-night! Christ help! I have but little wit; My life went wrong; I see it writ,

"Ozana of the hardy heart, Knight of the Table Round, Pray for his soul, lords, on your part; A good knight he was found."

Now I begin to fathom it.

Galahad sits dreamily: What strange things may his eyes see, Great blue eyes fix'd full on me? On his soul, Lord, have mercy.

Ozana, shall I pray for thee? Her cheek is laid to thine; No long time hence, also I see Thy wasted fingers twine

Within the tresses of her hair That shineth gloriously, Thinly outspread in the clear air Against the jasper sea.