Pub. CW, I, 370-72 and CW, XXIV, 81-83 (CW, XXIV, "We rode together in the winter weather / To the broad mead under the hill)
Draft in B. L. Add. MS 45,298A, ff. 36-37, titled "The Midnight Tilt," in what may be Morris' hand; see "Fame: Why Weepeth He?" Also appeared in OCM, January, 1856, 63-64.

For variant version, B. L. 45,298A, ff. 36-37v, "The Midnight Tilt," see below.

OCM, [63-64]

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 hearken
          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 droop’d adown from my lance;
With its deep blue trapping,
The mail over-lapping,
          My gallant horse did prance.

So ever together
In the sparkling weather
          Moved my banner and lance;
And its laurel trapping,
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 droop’d down straight from his lance;
With its blood-red trapping
The mail over-lapping,
          His mighty horse did prance.

As ever together
In the solemn weather
          Moved his banner and lance;
And the holly trapping,
The steel overlapping,
          Did shimmer and shiver, and dance.

[p. 64] Back reined the squires
Till they saw the spires
           Over the city wall;
Ten fathoms between us,
No dames could have seen us,
          Tilt from the city wall.

There we sat upright
Till the full midnight
          Should be told from the city chimes;
Sharp from the towers
Leapt 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
As we rode down lower,
          Black from the barren hill;
And our horses strode
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
In the winter weather
          From the broad mead under the hill;
No cloud did darken
The night; we did hearken
          How the hound bay’d from the hill.

Manuscript for "Winter Weather," with different title, "The Midnight Tilt" B. L. MS. 54,298A, ff. 36-37

      The Midnight Tilt

We rode together
In the winter weather
        To the broad mead under the hill,
Though the skies did shiver
With 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 passed away.

Two rode beside me
My banner did hide me
        As it dropped adown from my lance;
With its azure trapping
The mail overlapping
        My gallant horse did prance[.]

O! we met together
In the winter weather
        In the broad mead under the hill;
[f. 36v]
I heard his mail clinking
The sound my ears drinking
        For the night was very still[.]

Two rode beside him,
His banner did hide him
        As it drooped adown from his lance;
With its blood-red trapping
The mail overlapping
        His gallant horse did prance.

Back reined the squires
Till they saw the spires
        Over the city wall:
Twenty paces between us
No fair dames could have seen us
        Tilt, from the city wall[.]

There we sat upright;
Till the full midnight
        Should be told from the city chimes
Sharp from the towers
Leapt forth the showers
        Of the many clanging rhymes.

'Twas the midnight hour,
Deep from the tower
        Boomed the following bell,
Down go our lances
Shout for the lances!
        The last stroke was his knell.

There he lay dying,
He had for his lying
        A spear in his traitorous mouth[;]
[f. 37] A false tale made he
Of my true, true lady
        That the spear bent through his mouth[.]

In the winter weather
We rode back together
        From the broad mead under the hill.
And the body of the traitor
I laid at the gate there,
        It lay right stiff 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
        Hurrah! for my lady fair!

We rode back together
In the winter weather
        From the broad mead under the hill[.]
No cloud did darken
The night, we did hearken
        How the hound bayed from the hill