Poem by William Morris

In Prison

Wearily, drearily,
Half the day long,
Flap the great banners
High over the stone;
Strangely and eerily
Sounds the wind's song,
Bending the banner-poles.

While, all alone,
Watching the loophole's spark,
Lie I, with life all dark,
Feet tether'd, hands fetter'd
Fast to the stone,
The grim walls, square-letter'd
With prison'd men's groan.

Still strain the banner-poles
Through the wind's song,
Westward the banner rolls
Over my wrong. 

1. Of The Three Seekers
2. From the Upland to the Sea
3. The Flowering Orchard
4. To The Muse Of The North
5. Sad-Eyed and Soft and Grey

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