William Morris

Wearily, drearily, Half the day long, Flap the great banners High over the stone; Strangely and eerily Sounds the wind’s song, Bending the banner-poles. While, all alone, Watching the loophole’s spark, Lie I, with

But therewith the sun rose upward and lightened all the earth, And the light flashed up to the heavens from the rims of the glorious girth; But they twain arose together, and with both

Love is enough: though the World be a-waning And the woods have no voice but the voice of complaining, Though the sky be too dark for dim eyes to discover The gold-cups and daisies

She wavered, stopped and turned, methought her eyes, The deep grey windows of her heart, were wet, Methought they softened with a new regret To note in mine unspoken miseries, And as a prayer

I KNOW a little garden-close Set thick with lily and red rose, Where I would wander if I might From dewy dawn to dewy night, And have one with me wandering. And though within

What cometh here from west to east awending? And who are these, the marchers stern and slow? We bear the message that the rich are sending Aback to those who bade them wake and

Draw not away thy hands, my love, With wind alone the branches move, And though the leaves be scant above The Autumn shall not shame us. Say; Let the world wax cold and drear,

Dawn talks to Day Over dew-gleaming flowers, Night flies away Till the resting of hours: Fresh are thy feet And with dreams thine eyes glistening, Thy still lips are sweet Though the world is

Love is enough: it grew up without heeding In the days when ye knew not its name nor its measure, And its leaflets untrodden by the light feet of pleasure Had no boast of

The wind’s on the wold And the night is a-cold, And Thames runs chill ‘Twixt mead and hill. But kind and dear Is the old house here And my heart is warm ‘Midst winter’s

Hot August noon: already on that day Since sunrise through the Wiltshire downs, most sad Of mouth and eye, he had gone leagues of way; Ay and by night, till whether good or bad

A ship with shields before the sun, Six maidens round the mast, A red-gold crown on every one, A green gown on the last. The fluttering green banners there Are wrought with ladies’ heads

Of Heaven or Hell I have no power to sing, I cannot ease the burden of your fears, Or make quick-coming death a little thing, Or bring again the pleasure of past years, Nor

Lo from our loitering ship a new land at last to be seen; Toothed rocks down the side of the firth on the east guard a weary wide lea, And black slope the hillsides

Love is enough: draw near and behold me Ye who pass by the way to your rest and your laughter, And are full of the hope of the dawn coming after; For the strong

Our hands have met, our lips have met Our souls – who knows when the wind blows How light souls drift mid longings set, If thou forget’st, can I forget The time that was

For many, many days together The wind blew steady from the East; For many days hot grew the weather, About the time of our Lady’s Feast. For many days we rode together, Yet met

Ho! is there any will ride with me, Sir Giles, le bon des barrières? The clink of arms is good to hear, The flap of pennons fair to see; Ho! is there any will

Love is enough: while ye deemed him a-sleeping, There were signs of his coming and sounds of his feet; His touch it was that would bring you to weeping, When the summer was deepest

I heard men saying, Leave hope and praying, All days shall be as all have been; To-day and to-morrow bring fear and sorrow, The never-ending toil between. When Earth was younger mid toil and