WILLIAM MORRIS

† Oct. 4, 1896

Singer of Jason’s quest and Sigurd’s doom!

Teller of vision-haunted wanderings!

Who touched a strange new music from the strings

Of old Romance—a space amidst the gloom

Of cloudy centuries thou didst illume;

And there thy word a dreamlike splendour flings

On crown and helm—and even the tears of things

Brighten thy morning world’s immortal bloom.

Yet some, great Craftsman, reverence thee more

That Beauty, coldly throned among the stars,

Came at thy lure to tread the homely earth:

And, sweet and kindly as in days of yore,

Played with our children, graced our household cares,

And knelt content by many a quiet hearth.

[18]

[18]

 TO JOHN O’LEARY

Dedication of a Book of Irish Verses by various hands[2]

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