WILLIAM MORRIS

8 oo. Summer

��TDRAY but one prayer for me 'twixt thy closed lips,

• Think but one thought of me up in the stars.

The summer night waneth, the morning light slips

Faint and gray 'twixt the leaves of the aspen, betwixt

the cloud-bars, That are patiently waiting there for the dawn :

Patient and colourless, though Heaven's gold Waits to float through them along with the sun. Far out in the meadows, above the young corn,

The heavy elms wait, and restless and cold The uneasy wind rises ; the roses are dun ; Through the long twilight they pray for the dawn Round the lone house in the midst of the corn. Speak but one word to me over the corn, Over the tender, bow'd locks of the corn.

8 01. Love is enough

T OVE is enough: though the World be a-waning,

• "* And the woods have no voice but the voice of com

plaining,

Though the sky be too dark for dim eyes to discover The gold-cups and daisies fair blooming thereunder, Though the hills be held shadows, and the sea a dark wonder,

And this day draw a veil over all deeds pass'd over, Yet their hands shall not tremble, their feet shall not falter ; The void shall not weary, the fear shall not alter

These lips and these eyes of the loved and the lover.

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