And now, ye Scottish maids who have heard Dread things of the days grown old,— Even at the last, of true Queen Jane May somewhat yet be told, And how she dealt for her dear lord's sake Dire vengeance manifold. 'T was in the Charterhouse of Perth, In the fair-lit Death-chapelle, That the slain King's corpse on bier was lain With chaut and requiem-knell. And all with royal wealth of balm And none could trace on the brow and lips The death that he had died. In his robes of state he lay asleep And, girls, 't was a sweet sad thing to see From the King's crown clustered there. And if all had come to pass in the brain That throbbed beneath those curls, Then Scots had said in the days to come That this their soil was a different home And a different Scotland, girls! And the Queen sat by him night and day, And I had got good help of my hurt: She made; and save the priests that were there No face would she see but mine. And the month of March wore on apace; And still as I told her day by day, Her pallor changed to sight, And the frost grew to a furnace-flame That burnt her visage white. And evermore as I brought her word, She bent to her dead King James, And in the cold ear with fire-drawn breath She spoke the traitors' names. But when the name of Sir Robert Græme Was the one she had to give, I ran to hold her up from the floor; For the froth was on her lips, and sore I feared that she could not live. And the month of March wore nigh to its end, And still was the death-pall spread ; For she would not bury her slaughtered lord Till his slayers all were dead. And now of their dooms dread tidings came, And of torments fierce and dire; And nought she spake,-she had ceased to speak, But her eyes were a soul on fire. But when I told her the bitter end Of the stern and just award, She leaned o'er the bier, and thrice three times She kissed the lips of her lord. And then she said,-“ My King, they are dead!" And she knelt on the chapel-floor, And whispered low with a strange proud smile, "James, James, they suffered more!" Last she stood up to her queenly height, And "O James!" she said,-"My Should needs be born a King!" 1881. MORRIS LIST OF REFERENCES EDITIONS *Poetical Works of William Morris, 11 volumes, Longmans, Green & Co., 1896-8. The Earthly Paradise, 1 volume, Reeves & Turner, 1890. The Defence of Guenevere, Kelmscott Press, 1892. The Life and Death of Jason, Kelmscott Press, 1895. The Earthly Paradise, 8 volumes, 1896-7. Poems by the Way, Kelmscott Press, 1891. *Collected Works of William Morris, 24 volumes, Longmans, Green & Co., 1911, et seq. BIOGRAPHY * MACKAIL (J. W.), Life of William Morris, 2 volumes, 1899 (The standard biography). VALLANCE (Aymer), The late William Morris, 1896. *VALLANCE (Aymer), William Morris; His Art, his Writings and his Public Life. A Record, 1897. CARY (E. L.), William Morris : Poet, Craftsman, Socialist, 1902. CLARKE (William), William Morris, A Sketch of the Man; in F. W. Lee's William Morris. * NOYES (Alfred), Morris, 1908 (English Men of Letters). See also S. C. Cockerell's History of the Kelmscott Press, Percy H. Bate's History of the. Pre-Raphaelite Movement, and the other biographical references under Rossetti. CRITICISM CAZALIS (H.) ("Jean Lahor"), William Morris et le Mouvement nouveau de l'Art décoratif. CHESTERTON (G. K.), Twelve Types: William Morris and his School. CRANE (Walter), William Morris, in Scribner's Magazine, July, 1897. DOWDEN (E.), Transcripts and Studies: Victorian Literature. FORMAN (II. B.), Our Living Poets. HEWLETT (M.), William Morris; in The National Review, August, 1891. * HUBBARD (E.), The Philistine, Vol. IX, No. 4. HUBBARD (E.), Little Journeys to the Homes of English Authors. LANG (A.), The Poetry of William Morris; in the Contemporary Review, August, 1882. LANG (A.), William Morris's Poems; in Longman's Magazine, October, 1896. LovETT (R. M.), William Morris; in the Harvard Monthly, 1891; Vol. XII, p. 149. MACKAIL (J. W.), William Morris: An address. MYERS (F. W. II.), William Morris and the Meaning of Life; in The Nineteenth Century, January, 1893. MORE (Paul E.), Shelburne Essays, Sixth Series, 1909: William Morris. NORTON (C. E.), The Life and Death of Jason; in The Nation, August 22, 1867. PAYNE (W. M.), Editorial Echoes, 1902. PAYNE (W. M.), Greater English Poets of the Nineteenth Century, 1907. *SAINTSBURY (G.), Corrected Impressions. *SHARP (W.), William Morris: The Man and his Work; in The Atlantic Monthly, December, 1896. SHAW (G. B.), Morris as Actor and Dramatist; in The Saturday Review, October 10, 1896. SHAW (G. B.), William Morris as a Socialist; in The Daily Chronicle, October 6, 1896. STEDMAN (E. C.), Victorian Poets. **SWINBURNE (A. C.), Essays and Studies: Morris's Life and Death of Jason. SYMONS (Arthur), Studies in two Literatures. WATTS-DUNTON (T.), William Morris; in The Athenæum, October 10, 1896. WYZEWA (T. de), Écrivains étrangers. YEATS (W. B.), Ideas of Good and Evil; The Happiest of the . Poets. BENSON (A. C.), At Large, 1908: Kelmscott and William Morris. BROOKE (S. A.), Four Victorian Poets, 1908. JACKSON (H.), William Morris, Craftsman-Socialist, 1909. OLIPHANT (Margaret), The Victorian Age. RIEGEL (Julius), Die Quellen von William Morris's Dichtung, "The Earthly Paradise," Erlanger Beiträge zur Englischen Philologie. SCUDDER (V. D.), Life of the Spirit in Modern English Poetry. SPARGO (J.), The Socialism of Morris, 1909. BIBLIOGRAPHY * SCOTT (Temple), A Bibliography of the Works of William Morris. *FORMAN (HI. B.), The Books of William Morris. MORRIS WINTER WEATHER WE rode together In the winter weather To the broad mead under the hill; Though the skies did shiver With the cold, the river Ran, and was never still. No cloud did darken The night; we did harken The hound's bark far away. It was solemn midnight In that dread, dread night, In the years that have pass'd for aye. Two rode beside me, My banner did hide me, As it drooped adown from my lance; My gallant horse did prance. So ever together In the sparkling weather The steel over-lapping, The stars saw quiver and dance. We met together In the winter weather By the town-walls under the hill; His mail rings came clinking, They broke on my thinking, For the night was hush'd and still. Two rode beside him, His banner did hide him, As it drooped down straight from his lance; With its blood-red trapping, The mail over-lapping. His mighty horse did prance. And ever together In the solemn weather Moved his banner and lance; And the holly trapping, The steel over-lapping, Did shimmer and shiver, and dance. Back reined the squires No dames could have seen us There we sat upright Till the full midnight Should be told from the city's chimes; Sharp from the towers Leaped forth the showers Of the many clanging rhymes. "Twas the midnight hour, Deep from the tower Boom'd the following bell; Down go our lances, Shout for the lances! The last toll was his knell. There he lay, dying: He had, for his lying, A spear in his traitorous mouth; A false tale made he Of my true, true lady; But the spear went through his mouth. In the winter weather We rode back together From the broad mead under the hill; And the cock sung his warning As it grew toward morning, But the far-off hound was still. Black grew his tower Black from the barren hill; Up the winding road To the gateway dim and still. At the gate of his tower, In the quiet hour, We laid his body there; But his helmet broken, We took as a token; Shout for my lady fair! We rode back together From the broad mead under the hill; No cloud did darken The night; we did harken How the hound bay'd from the hill. January, 1856.1 RIDING TOGETHER FOR many, many days together For many days we rode together, We saw the trees in the hot, bright weather, Clear-cut, with shadows very black, As freely we rode on together With helms unlaced and bridles slack. And often as we rode together, We, looking down the green-bank'd stream, Saw flowers in the sunny weather, And saw the bubble-making bream. And in the night lay down together. And hung above our heads the rood, Or watch'd night-long in the dewy weather, The while the moon did watch the wood. Our spears stood bright and thick together, Straight out the banners stream'd behind, As we gallop'd on in the sunny weather, With faces turn'd towards the wind. Down sank our threescore spears together, As thick we saw the pagans ride; His eager face in the clear fresh weather, Shone out that last time by my side. Up the sweep of the bridge we dash'd together, It rock'd to the crash of the meeting spears, 1 The dates for Morris's poems have been com piled with the help of Mr. Temple Scott's excellent Bibliography of the Works of William Morris, and r Formau's The Books of William Morris |