William Morris

(1834 - 1896 / England)

The Orchard - Poem by William Morris

Midst bitten mead and acre shorn,
The world without is waste and worn,

But here within our orchard-close,
The guerdon of its labour 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.


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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, April 13, 2010



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