Poems by the Way, by William Morris

The Orchard.

Midst bitten mead and acre shorn,
The world without is waste and worn,

But here within our orchard-close,
The guerdon of its labour shows.

O valiant Earth, O happy year
That mocks the threat of winter near,

And hangs aloft from tree to tree
The banners of the Spring to be.

http://ebooks.adelaide.edu.au/m/morris/william/m87pb/chapter43.html

Last updated Thursday, March 6, 2014 at 22:07