The Collected Works of William Morris With Introductions by his Daughter May Morris |
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| II. |
| III, IV, V, VI. |
| VII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XXI. |
| XXIV. |
 | The Collected Works of William Morris |  |
O my love, how could it be
But summer must be brought to me
Brought to the world by thy full love?
Long within thee did it move,
Move and bud and change and grow,
Till it wraps me wholly now,
And I turn from thee a while
Its o'er-sweetness to beguile
With a little thought of rest.
But summer must be brought to me
Brought to the world by thy full love?
Long within thee did it move,
Move and bud and change and grow,
Till it wraps me wholly now,
And I turn from thee a while
Its o'er-sweetness to beguile
With a little thought of rest.
Ah me, have I gained the best,
Have I no more to desire
No more hope to vex and tire
No more fear to sicken me,
Nought but the full gift of thee,
All my soul to satisfy.
Have I no more to desire
No more hope to vex and tire
No more fear to sicken me,
Nought but the full gift of thee,
All my soul to satisfy.
Ah sweet, lest my longing die
E'en a moment, rise and come,
For the roses of our home,
For the rose and lily here
Are too sweet for us to bear.
Let us wander through the wood
Till a little rest seem good
To our weary limbs, till we,
As the eve dies silently,
Neath the chestnut boughs are laid
Faint with love but not downweighed
By the summer's restlessness,
Wearied but most fain to bless
Pity-laden summer, sad
With the hope the spring once had.
E'en a moment, rise and come,
For the roses of our home,
For the rose and lily here
Are too sweet for us to bear.
Let us wander through the wood
Till a little rest seem good
To our weary limbs, till we,
As the eve dies silently,
Neath the chestnut boughs are laid
Faint with love but not downweighed
By the summer's restlessness,
Wearied but most fain to bless
Pity-laden summer, sad
With the hope the spring once had.
| The Collected Works of William Morris | |