THE EARTHLY PARADISE A POEM. BY WILLIAM MORRIS Author of the Life and Death of Jason. Part II. _ELEVENTH IMPRESSION_ LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO. 39 PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON NEW YORK AND BOMBAY 1903 CONTENTS. PAGE _MAY_ 2 _The Story of Cupid and Psyche_ 5 _The Writing on the Image_ 98 _JUNE_ 112 _The Love of Alcestis_ 114 _The Lady of the Land_ 164 _JULY_ 186 _The Son of Croesus_ 188 _The Watching of the Falcon_ 210 _AUGUST_ 244 _Pygmalion and the Image_ 246 _Ogier the Dane_ 275 THE EARTHLY PARADISE. MAY, JUNE, JULY, AUGUST. MAY. O love, this morn when the sweet nightingale Had so long finished all he had to say, That thou hadst slept, and sleep had told his tale; And midst a peaceful dream had stolen away In fragrant dawning of the first of May, Didst thou see aught? didst thou hear voices sing Ere to the risen sun the bells 'gan ring? For then methought the Lord of Love went by To take possession of his flowery throne, Ringed round with maids, and youths, and minstrelsy; A little while I sighed to find him gone, A little while the dawning was alone, And the light gathered; then I held my breath, And shuddered at the sight of Eld and Death. Alas! Love passed me in the twilight dun, His music hushed the wakening ousel's song; But on these twain shone out the golden sun, And o'er their heads the brown bird's tune was strong, As shivering, twixt the trees they stole along; None noted aught their noiseless passing by, The world had quite forgotten it must die. * * * * * Now must these men be glad a little while That they had lived to see May once more smile Upon the earth; wherefore, as men who know How fast the bad days and the good days go, They gathered at the feast: the fair abode Wherein they sat, o'erlooked, across the road Unhedged green meads, which willowy streams passed through, And on that morn, before the fresh May dew Had dried upon the sunniest spot of grass, From bush to bush did youths and maidens pass In raiment meet for May apparelled, Gathering the milk-white blossoms and the red; And now, with noon long past, and that bright day Growing aweary, on the sunny way They wandered, crowned with flowers, and loitering, And weary, yet were fresh enough to sing The carols of the morn, and pensive, still Had cast away their doubt of death and ill, And flushed with love, no more grew red with shame.