Robbins Library Digital Projects Announcement: We are currently working on a large-scale migration of the Robbins Library Digital Projects to a new platform. This migration affects The Camelot Project, The Robin Hood Project, The Crusades Project, The Cinderella Bibliography, and Visualizing Chaucer.
While these resources will remain accessible during the course of migration, they will be static, with reduced functionality. They will not be updated during this time. We anticipate the migration project to be complete by Summer 2025.
If you have any questions or concerns, please contact us directly at robbins@ur.rochester.edu. We appreciate your understanding and patience.
While these resources will remain accessible during the course of migration, they will be static, with reduced functionality. They will not be updated during this time. We anticipate the migration project to be complete by Summer 2025.
If you have any questions or concerns, please contact us directly at robbins@ur.rochester.edu. We appreciate your understanding and patience.
The Coming of Olwen
FROM 'KILHWCH AND OLWEN,' IN THE MABINOGION
The message was sent, and the maiden came;
Her pale form wreathed in a robe of flame.
About her neck was a samite fold,
With emerald and ruby and ruddy gold.
More yellow her hair than the flower of the broom:
Her skin more white than the white sea-foam.
Far fairer her hands and her fingers were
Than the wind-flowers trained by the wood water.
More bright than the sparhawk's eye, her glance,--
Or the spray of the meadow-fountain's dance.
Her bosom was more snowy white
Than the swan that swims in the clear sunlight.
And never roses were seen so red
As her parting lips that their petals spread.
Where'er on the forest floor she stept,
Beneath her feet four trefoils leapt.
The forest flowers made a name:
They murmured OLWEN and she came.
Who sees her once cross the forest floor,
Must follow pale Olwen for evermore.
The message was sent, and the maiden came;
Her pale form wreathed in a robe of flame.
About her neck was a samite fold,
With emerald and ruby and ruddy gold.
More yellow her hair than the flower of the broom:
Her skin more white than the white sea-foam.
Far fairer her hands and her fingers were
Than the wind-flowers trained by the wood water.
More bright than the sparhawk's eye, her glance,--
Or the spray of the meadow-fountain's dance.
Her bosom was more snowy white
Than the swan that swims in the clear sunlight.
And never roses were seen so red
As her parting lips that their petals spread.
Where'er on the forest floor she stept,
Beneath her feet four trefoils leapt.
The forest flowers made a name:
They murmured OLWEN and she came.
Who sees her once cross the forest floor,
Must follow pale Olwen for evermore.
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