Home › By Author › William Morris
Quotes by William Morris
Slayer of the winter, art thou here again? O welcome, thou that bring'st the summer nigh! The bitter wind makes not the victory vain, Nor will we mock thee for thy faint blue sky.— filed under Months-March
O thrush, your song is passing sweet, But never a song that you have sung Is half so sweet as thrushes sang When my dear love and I were young.— filed under Birds-Thrush
Psalm XXXVII. From out the throng and stress of lies,. From out the painful noise of sighs, One voice of comfort seems to rise: "It is the meaner part that dies."— filed under Comfort