Page:The Sundering Flood - Morris - 1898.djvu/69

 Long ere I forget it, the house of thy word And doors of thy learning, the roof of speech-hoard. When thou art away In the winter grey, Through the hall-reek then And the din of men Shall I yet behold Sif's hair of gold And Hild's bright feet. The battle-fleet, And from threshold to hearthstone, like as songs of the South, To and fro shall be fleeting the words of thy mouth.

Then his song dropped down, and they stood looking silently at each other, and tears ran over the little maiden's cheeks. But she spake first, and said: Most lovely is thy lay; and there is this in it, that I see thou hast made it while thou wert sitting there, for it is all about thee and me, and how thou lovest me and I thee. And full surely I know that thou wilt one day be a great and mighty man. Yet this I find strange in thy song almost to foolishness, that thou speakest in it as I were a woman grown, and thou a grown man, whereas we be both children. And look, heed it, what sunders us, this mighty Flood, which hath been from the beginning and shall be to the end.

He answered not awhile, and then he said: I might not help it; the words came into my mouth, and meseems they be better said than unsaid. Look to it if I do not soon some deed such as bairns be not used to doing. That I deem is like to be, she said, yet it shall be a long time ere