William and Marie DGR 1 Special Collections Library, Duke University William and Marie Dante Gabriel Rossetti 1841 fair copy Dante Gabriel Rossetti Duke University Library two folded leaves plus a loose leaf of unlined white paper, six pages none 7.5 x 9 inches at the end of the poem's text is a letter from DGR to the editor of <hi rend="i">Smallwood's</hi> , offering the poem for publication. Commentary
Introduction

This is one of two fair copies of the ballad that DGR made in 1841. The other in in the Rosenbach Library.

Textual History: Composition

Textual History: Revision

Production History

Reception History

Iconographic

Printing History

Pictorial

Historical

Literary

Translation

Autobiographical

Bibliographic

William and Marie. A Ballad. by Gabriel Rossetti the Younger. written when he was 15. the note beneath the title was added at a later time, apparently by WMR ====== “O whither awaye, myne own true love? O whither awaye sae soon? The rayne will splash thy 'broiderie, And soak thy gilded shoon.” “I heedna the wynde, and I heedna the hayle, And I heedna the storme, Marie; — Before an hour hath passed awaye, In my own halle mote I be.” “But the lightning will startle thy berrie-browne steed, And he will snort and shy, — And long ere thou mayest reach thy halle On the cauld earth shalt thou lie.” “Thou knowst not my berrie-browne steed, Marie, Nor the dangers we have passed; He would bear one free through the raging sea Like an arrowe before the blast. “But tell me true, my onlie love, And truelie tell to me; And why dost thou praye that I thys daye In thy bowere so long should be?” She put her arms about his necke, And he felt her heart beate highe; And she hid her face within his breaste As she spoke righte dolefullie. “O there is a knight of the north countrie; — Sir Richard is his name; And long years syne, ere my mother died, A wooing to me he came: “And he standes below in the castle-halle, And his sworde is in his hande; And when you have passed the corridor He will slaye you where you stande. “Then staye with me, my dearest love, And hearken to my prayer; Or I'll not see thy face again, Nor hear thy voice nae mair.” Lord William turned him round about, And grasped his trustie brande; “And I'll not yield a foot,”quoth he, “While the hilte holds in my hande.” And she heard the trampling of hurried feete And the sound of men in strife; And she knelt her down on the stonie floore, And prayed for Willie's lyfe. At last there rose a loud, loud shriek, And it woke the echoes neare: The ladie started to her feete And quaked for verie feare. And she ranne fulle quicklie down the stairs, And she oped the iron doore, — And she was awayre of her lover's corpse Laye weltering in his gore. And o'er him stood that recreant knight As he wiped his bloodie sword: The ladie threw her on her knees And kissed her fallen lord. “Assasin! on thy guiltie head May Heaven's vengeance falle; For thou hast slayne my onlie friende, My life, my soul, my alle. “O he was gentler than the lambe, And milder than the dove: God knows he was the onlie manne That ever I did love. “And now pure angels beare his soulle To brighter realmes on highe, But thou shalt dwelle with fiendes belowe In endlesse miserie.” He took her up into his arms, And his lookes were blacke as deathe, And he dashed her downe from the win- -dowe highe To the moate which rolled beneath. * * * * * The wind was moaning through the trees,— It whistled and it sang; And the crash of heaven's artillery Though the echoing welkin rang. The lightning flashed across the waste With a wild and ghastly glare, And it mingled in its fitful gleams With the hot and sulphurous air: And it danced on high, and it skimmed along O'er the parched and blasted heath, And the flowers withered where it passed Beneath its fiery breath. Sir Richard dashed across the plain,— His spurs were red with gore; And he thought that spectres followed him, Above — behind — before. He heard their wailings on the wind, Their shrieks upon the blast: — What would he not have given to know That dreary heath was past! But brighter flashed the levin-glare, And deeper rolled the thunder, And shrubs were strewn along the ground, And oaks were riven asunder. And the lightning glanced on the mur- -derer's face And showed its livid hue, As faster o'er the lonesome waste In mortal fear he flew. And it glimmered on his crested helm, And dashed him from his horse, And stretched him writhing on the earth, A burnt and blackened corse. ====== <authorline/> <note>This is a letter which accompanies and references the ballad.</note> </divheader> <opener> <address>50 Charlotte St. Portland Pl.</address> </opener> <p>Sir,<lb indent="1"/>Should you consider the accom-<lb/>-panying Ballad not wholly unwor-<lb/>-thy of a place in your magazine, you<lb/>would highly oblige me by inserting it.<lb/>If it meet not with a favorable recep-<lb/>-tion, and should you answer me<lb/>among your “correspondents,” would you<lb/>favour me by doing so under the in-<lb/>-itials “A.B.” instead of my real name.</p> <closer> <lb indent="4"/>I am, Sir,<lb indent="4"/>Yours<lb indent="4"/> <signed>Gabriel Rossetti</signed> </closer> <p>P.S. I have also executed the enclosed<lb/>sketch which is intended, if con-<lb/>-sidered sufficiently good, as a<lb/>headpiece to the Ballad.</p> </div0> <epage/> </body> </text> </ram>