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Draft in B. L. Add. MS 45,298A, ff. 37v-40 in what may be Morris's adolescent hand. This and nos. 4-9, 13, 14, and 16-18 below are all written in a large, loose, symmetrical script, quite different from that used by the copyist of "The Mosque Rising in the Place of the Temple of Solomon" (formerly known as "The Dedication of the Temple"), a poem which May Morris received in the same batch of poems from her niece Effie Morris in 1921, and which she describes as written out "for or by" her aunt. May Morris apparently hesitated to identify her aunt's handwriting, but at least did not assume that the very different "Fame" script was hers. The uncertainty is resolved, however, by the one surviving Emma Morris letter (to her niece Jenny, 1887, William Morris Gallery MS J77), written in the script of "The Mosque Rising" copyist. Emma was not the copyist for "Fame" or the other poems in the same handwriting which were found in her drawer; other possibilities include Henrietta Morris or Morris himself. Morris's handwriting varied widely; although the handwriting of "Fame" is less compressed than that of the Fitzwilliam early script, the capital letters are similarly formed. May Morris often mentioned whether drafts were in her father's hand, but here said nothing. See also the note on 10.
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B. L. Add. MS. 45,298A, ff. 40-41
The Abbey and the Palace
Standing away from the corn-fields
On a grey, grey day,
With the east wind blowing
Past the pillars, and showing
The backs of the ivy leaves;
Standing away from the corn-fields
Where the children play,
Where the wind is blowing
Up the hill, and going
Past the shining golden sheaves;
Standing away from all men
In October weather
A grey tower lifting,
Where the grey clouds are shifting,
Four great arches stood:
Beneath them lay the tall men
Who have fought together[.]
There the old monks lay
And the wind moaned well-a-day
For their chaunt through the wood.
Lying there in the choir
By the ruined wall
With his hands clasped together,
Praying there for ever,
Look at the stone-carved Knight.
And about lies the shivered spire
Once so tall, so tall,
And the crow flies over
The head of the lover[,]
Of him was brave in fight.
[f. 41] And if the crow keeps flying
Through the grey, grey air
He will see as he flyeth
A palace that lieth
With shivered marble around[;]
He will hear the east wind dying
Past the marble there;
He will see it all roofless,
All ruined and roofless
With the marble on the ground.
Now the wind beats heavily
Round the tower[,] that steadily
Stands upon the arches four;
And the wind blows wearily
Round the palace, drearily
Standing, walls without a floor.
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Pub. AWS, I, 523-24.
Standing away from the corn-fields
On a grey, grey day,
With the east wind blowing
Past the pillars, and showing
The backs of the ivy leaves;
Standing away from the corn-fields
Where the children play,
Where the wind is blowing
Up the hill, and going
Past the shining golden sheaves.
Standing away from all men
In October weather
A grey tower lifting,
Where the grey clouds are shifting,
[524] Four great arches stood:
Beneath them lay the tall men
Who have fought together,
There the old monks lay
And the wind moaned well-a-day
For their chaunt through the wood.
Lying there in the choir
By the ruined wall
With his hands clasped together,
Praying there for ever,
Look at the stone-carved Knight.
And about lies the shivered spire
Once so tall, so tall,
And the crow flies over
The head of the lover
Of him was brave in fight.
[f. 41] And if the crow keeps flying
Through the grey, grey air
He will see as he flyeth
A palace that lieth
With shivered marble around;
He will hear the east wind dying
Past the marble there;
He will see it all roofless,
All ruined and roofless
With the marble on the ground.
Now the wind beats heavily
Round the tower[,] that steadily
Stands upon the arches four,
And the wind blows wearily
Round the palace, drearily
Standing, walls without a floor.
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