All Poems

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Near Avalon

© William Morris

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.

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Mine and Thine

© William Morris

Two words about the world we see,
And nought but Mine and Thine they be.
Ah! might we drive them forth and wide
With us should rest and peace abide;

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March

© William Morris

Slayer of the winter, art thou here again?
O welcome, thou that's bring'st the summer nigh!
The bitter wind makes not thy victory vain,
Nor will we mock thee for thy faint blue sky.

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Love's Gleaning Tide

© William Morris

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.

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Love is enough

© William Morris

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 fair blooming thereunder,

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King Arthur's Tomb

© William Morris

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

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In Arthur's House

© William Morris

"As quoth the lion to the mouse,"
The man said; "in King Arthur's House
Men are not names of men alone,
But coffers rather of deeds done."

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Iceland First Seen

© William Morris

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 above, striped adown with their desolate green:
And a peak rises up on the west from the meeting of cloud and of sea,

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For the Bed at Kelmscott

© William Morris

The wind's on the wold
And the night is a-cold,
And Thames runs chill
'Twixt mead and hill.

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Flora

© William Morris

I am the handmaid of the earth,
I broider fair her glorious gown,
And deck her on her days of mirth
With many a garland of renown.

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Earth the Healer, Earth the Keeper

© William Morris

So swift the hours are moving
Unto the time unproved:
Farewell my love unloving,
Farewell my love beloved!

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Day

© William Morris

I am Day; I bring again
Life and glory, Love and pain:
Awake, arise! from death to death
Through me the World's tale quickeneth.

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Autumn

© William Morris

Laden Autumn here I stand
Worn of heart, and weak of hand:
Nought but rest seems good to me,
Speak the word that sets me free.

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Atalanta's Race

© William Morris

Through such fair things unto the gates he came,
And found them open, as though peace were there;
Wherethrough, unquestioned of his race or name,
He entered, and along the streets 'gan fare,
Which at the first of folk were well-nigh bare;
But pressing on, and going more hastily,

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In Prison

© William Morris

Wearily, drearily,Half the day long,Flap the great bannersHigh over the stone;Strangely and eerilySounds the wind's song,Bending the banner-poles.

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The Shy Man

© William Barnes

Ah! good Meäster Gwillet, that you mid ha' know'd,

  Wer a-bred up at Coomb, an' went little abroad:

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A Death Song

© William Morris

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 know.
Not one, not one, nor thousands must they slay,
But one and all if they would dusk the day.

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The White Cliffs

© Alice Duer Miller

Yet I have loathed those voices when the sense
Of what they said seemed to me insolence,
As if the dominance of the whole nation
Lay in that clear correct enunciation.

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Winter Sleep

© Elinor Wylie

O what a warm and darksome nest
Where the wildest things are hidden to rest!
It's there that I'd love to lie and sleep,
Soft, soft, soft, and deep, deep, deep!

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Wild Peaches

© Elinor Wylie

The winter will be short, the summer long,
The autumn amber-hued, sunny and hot,
Tasting of cider and of scuppernong;
All seasons sweet, but autumn best of all.
The squirrels in their silver fur will fall
Like falling leaves, like fruit, before your shot.