Page:Early poems of William Morris.djvu/278



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.

194