THE FIRST MORRIS 279 somewhere between palette and picture they were doctored, something distorted the brush-marks as they dried. It smacks prodigiously of sorcery; but we are close on the explanation now. When we turn to consider the effect of the other great influence that is supposed to be projected on these pages we find at first, it is true, what looks disquietingly like yet another of these uncanny perversions. '*To my friend Dante Gabriel Rossetti, painter, I dedicate these poems," is the inscription on the fly-leaf of Guenevere ; and we are assured that over Morris, at the time, the dominion of Rossetti was supreme. "He became not only a pupil, but a servant. Once when Burne-Jones complained that the designs he made in Rossetti's manner seemed better than his own original work, Morris answered with some vehemence : "I have got beyond all that : I want to imitate Gabriel as much as I can." Yet when we turn to look at the resemblance — whither has it fled? Technically, the two poets occupy antipodes. Such verse as this, for instance : — What thing unto mine ear Wouldst thou convey — what secret thing, O wandering water ever whispering ? Surely thy speech shall be of her. Thou water, O thou whispering wanderer, What message dost thou bring? — a whorl of fluted sound, insidiously utilizing the last silken subtleties of onomatopceia, perfectly character- istic of Rossetti — might be used to illustrate precisely those arts of expression which Morris was quite peculiarly incapable of employing. Rossetti loved the very " feel " of language, fingered words with a caress- ing passion, braiding their echoes like floss. To Morris they were simply so many little blocks, each bearing a coloured sign, which he proceeded to arrange in rows,
