The Collected Works of William Morris With Introductions by his Daughter May Morris |
I. |
II. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
V. |
VI. |
VII. |
VIII. |
IX. |
X. |
XI. |
XII. |
XIII. |
XIV. |
XV. |
XVI. |
XVII. |
III, IV, V, VI. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
VII. |
III. |
IV. |
VIII. |
IX. |
XI. |
XII. |
XIV. |
XVI. |
XVII. |
XVIII. |
XIX. |
XXI. |
XXII. |
XXIV. |
XXVII. |
XXVIII. |
XXXI. |
XXXVII. |
XL. |
XLVII. |
XLVIII. |
LII. |
LIV. |
LVII. |
LIX. |
LXI. |
LXII. |
LXIII. |
LXVI. |
LXXIV. |
LXXVII. |
LXXXII. |
LXXXVI. |
XC. |
VIII. |
XIV. |
XVII. |
XIX. |
XX. |
XXVII. |
XXVIII. |
XXIX. |
XXX. |
XXXI. |
XXXIII. |
XLIII. |
IX. |
VERSES FOR PICTURES |
X. |
I. |
VII. |
VIII. |
XI. |
XIII. |
XIV. |
XVI. |
XVII. |
XVIII. |
V. |
VI. |
VII. |
IX. |
X. |
XI. |
XIV. |
V. |
XII. |
XIV. |
XVII. |
XXX. |
XXI. |
XXII. |
IV. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
V. |
VI. |
VII. |
VIII. |
IX. |
X. |
XI. |
XII. |
XIII. |
XIV. |
XV. |
XVI. |
XVII. |
XVIII. |
XIX. |
XX. |
XXI. |
XXII. |
XXIII. |
XXIV. |
XXV. |
XXVI. |
XXVII. |
XXVIII. |
XXIX. |
XXX. |
XXXI. |
XXXII. |
XXXIII. |
XXXIV. |
XXXV. |
XXXVI. |
XXXVII. |
XXXVIII. |
XXXIX. |
XL. |
XLI. |
XLII. |
XLIII. |
XII. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
XIV. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
V. |
VI. |
VIII. |
IX. |
XI. |
XIII. |
XV. |
XVI. |
XVII. |
XIX. |
XX. |
XXII. |
XXVI. |
XXVII. |
XXVIII. |
XXIX. |
XXX. |
XXXI. |
VII. |
XVII. |
XVIII. |
XIX. |
XXI. |
XV. |
III. |
VI. |
IX. |
XV. |
XX. |
XXIX. |
XXXIV. |
XXXVII. |
XXXIX. |
XLI. |
XLIV. |
XLV. |
XLVIII. |
LI. |
LV. |
LVIII. |
XVI. |
II. |
VIII. |
XVII. |
XXI. |
III. |
V. |
VI. |
VII. |
X. |
XVII. |
XXIX. |
XXXVI. |
XXXVII. |
XXIV. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
V. |
VI. |
VII. |
VIII. |
IX. |
X. |
XI. |
XII. |
XIII. |
The Collected Works of William Morris | ||
189
VERSES FOR PICTURES
DAY
I am Day; I bring againLife and glory, Love and pain:
Awake, arise! from death to death
Through me the World's tale quickeneth.
SPRING
Spring am I, too sort of heartMuch 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 standWorn of heart, and weak of hand:
Nought but rest seems good to me,
Speak the word that sets me free.
WINTER
I am Winter, that do keepLonging safe amidst of sleep:
Who shall say if I were dead
What should be remembered?
NIGHT
I am Night: I bring againHope of pleasure, rest from pain:
Thoughts unsaid 'twixt Life and Death
My fruitful silence quickeneth.
The Collected Works of William Morris | ||