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William Morris
William Morris was a 19th-century British textile designer, poet, novelist, and socialist activist, known for his significant contributions to the Arts and Crafts Movement. He founded the design firm Morris & Co., which produced a wide range of decorative arts, including textiles, wallpaper, and furniture, characterized by intricate patterns and craftsmanship. Morris was also a prolific writer, with works like the utopian novel "News from Nowhere" reflecting his socialist ideals and vision for a society based on communal living and environmental harmony.
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William Morris
CHAPTER I Sometimes I am rewarded for fretting myself so much about present matters by a quite unasked-for pleasant dream. I mean when I am asleep. This dream is as it were a present of an architectural peep-show. I see some beautiful and noble building new made, as it were for the occasion, as clearly as if I were awake; not vaguely or absurdly, as often happens in dreams, but with all the detail...
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William Morris
CHAPTER I: OF THOSE THREE WHO CAME TO THE HOUSE OF THE RAVEN It has been told that there was once a young man of free kindred and whose name was Hallblithe: he was fair, strong, and not untried in battle; he was of the House of the Raven of old time. This man loved an exceeding fair damsel called the Hostage, who was of the House of the Rose, wherein it was right and due that the men of the Raven...
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William Morris
CHAPTER 1 Long ago there was a little land, over which ruled a regulus or kinglet, who was called King Peter, though his kingdom was but little. He had four sons whose names were Blaise, Hugh, Gregory and Ralph: of these Ralph was the youngest, whereas he was but of twenty winters and one; and Blaise was the oldest and had seen thirty winters. Now it came to this at last, that to these young men the...
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William Morris
HERE BEGIN POEMS BY THE WAY.WRITTEN BY WILLIAM MORRIS.AND FIRST IS THE POEM CALLEDFROM THE UPLAND TO THE SEA. Shall we wake one morn of spring,Glad at heart of everything,Yet pensive with the thought of eve?Then the white house shall we leave,Pass the wind-flowers and the bays,Through the garth, and go our ways,Wandering down among the meadsTill our very joyance needsRest at last; till we shall comeTo...
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William Morris
CHAPTER I. OF THE KING OF OAKENREALM, AND HIS WIFE AND HIS CHILD. Of old there was a land which was so much a woodland, that a minstrel thereof said it that a squirrel might go from end to end, and all about, from tree to tree, and never touch the earth: therefore was that land called Oakenrealm. The lord and king thereof was a stark man, and so great a warrior that in his youth he took no delight in...
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William Morris
THE STORY OF THE UNKNOWN CHURCH I was the master-mason of a church that was built more than six hundred years ago; it is now two hundred years since that church vanished from the face of the earth; it was destroyed utterly,—no fragment of it was left; not even the great pillars that bore up the tower at the cross, where the choir used to join the nave. No one knows now even where it stood, only in...
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William Morris
CHAPTER I: DISCUSSION AND BED Up at the League, says a friend, there had been one night a brisk conversational discussion, as to what would happen on the Morrow of the Revolution, finally shading off into a vigorous statement by various friends of their views on the future of the fully-developed new society. Says our friend: Considering the subject, the discussion was good-tempered; for those present...
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William Morris
STRUGGLING IN THE WORLD. Do you know where it is -- the Hollow Land? I have been looking for it now so long, trying to find it again the Hollow Land for there I saw my love first. I wish to tell you how I found it first of all; but I am old, my memory fails me: you must wait and let me think if I perchance can tell you how it happened. Yea, in my ears is a confused noise of trumpet-blasts singing over...
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William Morris
BOOK I. SIGMUND. in this book is told of the earlier days of the volsungs, and of sigmund the father of sigurd, and of his deeds, and of how he died while sigurd was yet unborn in his mother's womb. Of the dwelling of King Volsung, and the wedding of Signy his daughter.There was a dwelling of Kings ere the world was waxen old;Dukes were the door-wards there, and the roofs were thatched with...
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William Morris
MAY. O love, this morn when the sweet nightingaleHad so long finished all he had to say,That thou hadst slept, and sleep had told his tale;And midst a peaceful dream had stolen awayIn fragrant dawning of the first of May,Didst thou see aught? didst thou hear voices singEre to the risen sun the bells 'gan ring? For then methought the Lord of Love went byTo take possession of his flowery...
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