A ship with sails before the wind, And round the helm six knights, Their heaumes are on, whereby, half blind, They pass by many sights. In all their heaumes some yellow hair. And Thames runs chill 'Twixt mead and hill. And my heart is warm Midst winter's harm. And scarce dare move, Lest the earth and its love Should fade away Ere the full of the day.
Right good is rest.
William Morris Dawn P RAY but one prayer for me 'twixt thy closed lips, Think but one thought of me up in the stars. Patient and colourless, though Heaven's gold Waits to float through them along with the sun. Round the lone house in the midst of the corn. Over the tender, bow'd locks of the corn. We bear the message that the rich are sending Aback to those who bade them wake and know.