Page:The Life of William Morris.djvu/83

62 Then I lifted up her head And I softly to her said Blanche, we twain will soon be dead

Let us pray that we may die Let us pray that we may lie Where the softening wind does sigh

That in heaven amid the bliss Of the blessed where God is Mid the angels we may kiss.

We may stand with joined hands Face to face with angel bands They too stand with joined hands.

Yea, she said, but kiss me now Ere my sinning spirit go To the place no man doth know

There I kissed her as she lay O! her spirit passed away 'Mid the flowers her body lay.

What a dream is this of mine I am almost like to pine For this dreary dream of mine.

O dead love thy hand is here O dead Blanche thy golden hair Lies along the flowers fair.

I am all aweary love Of the bright blue sky above I will lie beside thee love.

So over them over them ever The long long wind swept on And lovingly lovingly ever The birds sang on their song.

Such were the first beginnings. But his discovery that he could write prose came hard on the heels of his discovery that he could write poetry, and for some little time prose was the vehicle in which he could express his thoughts and imaginations with greater