Page:The Sundering Flood - Morris - 1898.djvu/68

 that is good indeed, since thou canst also slay wolves. But how sweet it would be for me to have thee making a stave before me now. Wouldst thou? I wot not, he said, laughing; but let me try. So he sat down and fell to conning his rhymes, while she stood looking on from across the water. At last he stood up and sang:

Now the grass groweth free, And the lily's on lea, And the April-tide green Is full goodly beseen; And far behind Lies the winter blind, And the lord of the Gale Is shadowy pale; And thou, linden be-blossomed, with bed of the worm Comest forth from the dark house as spring from the storm. O barm-cloth tree, The light is in thee, And as spring-tide shines Through the lily lines, So forth from thine heart Through thy red lips apart Came words and love To wolf-bane's grove, And the shaker of battle-board blesseth the Earth For the love and the longing, kind craving and mirth. May I forget The grass spring-wet And the quivering stem On the brooklet's hem, And the brake thrust up And the saffron's cup, Each fashioned thing From the heart of Spring,