Chapter 35 : Verses For Pictures -------------------------------------------------------------------- People : ---------------------------------- Author : William Morris Text : ---------------------------------- 35. VERSES FOR PICTURES. Day. 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. Spring. Spring am I, too soft of heart Much to speak ere I depart: Ask the Summer-tide to prove The abundance of my love. Summer. Summer looked for long am I; Much shall change or e'er I die. Prithee take it not amiss Though I weary thee with bliss. Autumn. Laden Autumn here I stand Worn of heart, and weak of hand: Naught but rest seems good to me, Speak the word that sets me free. Winter. I am Winter, that do keep Longing safe amid of sleep: Who shall say if I were dead What should be remembered? Night. I am Night: I bring again Hope of pleasure, rest from pain: Thoughts unsaid 'twixt Life and Death My fruitful silence quickeneth. 35.1. FOR THE BRIER ROSE. The Briarwood. The fateful slumber floats and flows About the tangle of the rose; But lo! the fated hand and heart To rend the slumberous curse apart! The Council Room. The threat of war, the hope of peace, The Kingdom's peril and increase Sleep on, and bide the latter day, When fate shall take her chain away. The Garden Court. The maiden pleasance of the land Knoweth no stir of voice or hand, No cup the sleeping waters fill, The restless shuttle lieth still. The Rosebower. Here lies the hoarded love, the key To all the treasure that shall be; Come fated hand the gift to take, And smite this sleeping world awake. 35.2. ANOTHER FOR THE BRIER-ROSE. O treacherous scent, O thorny sight, O tangle of world's wrong and right, What art thou 'gainst my armor's gleam But dusky cobwebs of a dream? Beat down, deep sunk from every gleam Of hope, they lie and dully dream; Men once, but men no more, that Love Their waste defeated hearts should move. Here sleeps the world that would not love! Let it sleep on, but if He move Their hearts in humble wise to wait On his new-wakened fair estate. O won at last is never late! Thy silence was the voice of fate; Thy still hands conquered in the strife; Thine eyes were light; thy lips were life. 35.3. THE WOODPECKER. I once a King and chief Now am the tree-bark's thief, Ever 'twixt trunk and leaf Chasing the prey. 35.4. THE LION. The Beasts that be In wood and waste, Now sit and see, Nor ride nor haste. 35.5. THE FOREST. Pear-tree. By woodman's edge I faint and fail; By craftsman's edge I tell the tale. Chestnut-tree. High in the wood, high o'er the hall, Aloft I rise when low I fall. Oak-tree. Unmoved I stand what wind may blow. Swift, swift before the wind I go. 35.6 POMONA. I am the ancient Apple-Queen, As once I was so am I now. For evermore a hope unseen, Betwixt the blossom and the bough. Ah, where's the river's hidden Gold! And where the windy grave of Troy? Yet come I as I came of old, From out the heart of Summer's joy. 35.7. FLORA. 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. And while Earth's little ones are fain And play about the Mother's hem I scatter every gift I gain From sun and wind to gladden them. 35.8. 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 labor 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. 35.9. TAPESTRY TREES. Oak. I am the Roof-tree and the Keel; I bridge the seas for woe and weal. Fir. High o'er the lordly oak I stand, And drive him on from land to land. Ash. I heft my brother's iron bane; I shaft the spear, and build the wain. Yew. Dark down the windy dale I grow, The father of the fateful Bow. Poplar. The war-shaft and the milking-bowl I make, and keep the hay-wain whole. Olive. The King I bless; the lamps I trim; In my warm wave do fishes swim. Apple-tree. I bowed my head to Adam's will; The cups of toiling men I fill. Vine. I draw the blood from out the earth; I store the sun for winter mirth. Orange-tree. Amid the greenness of my night, My odorous lamps hang round and bright. Fig-tree. I who am little among trees In honey-making mate the bees. Mulberry -tree. Love's lack hath dyed my berries red: For Love's attire my leaves are shed. Pear-tree. High o'er the mead-flowers' hidden feet I bear aloft my burden sweet. Bay. Look on my leafy boughs, the Crown Of living song and dead renown! 35.10. THE FLOWERING ORCHARD. Silk Embroidery. Lo silken my garden, and silken my sky, And silken my apple-boughs hanging on high; All wrought by the Worm in the peasant carle's cot On the Mulberry leafage when summer was hot! From : Marxists.org Events : ---------------------------------- Chapter 35 -- Added : February 26, 2021 About This Textfile : ---------------------------------- Text file generated from : http://revoltlib.com/