William Morris

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.

Author's Books:

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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... more...

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... more...

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... more...

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... more...

FROM THE UPLAND TO THE SEAShall 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 that Sun-god's lonely home,Lonely on the hillside grey,Whence the sheep have... more...

THE DEFENCE OF GUENEVEREBUT, knowing now that they would have her speak,She threw her wet hair backward from her brow,Her hand close to her mouth touching her cheek,As though she had had there a shameful blow,And feeling it shameful to feel ought but shameAll through her heart, yet felt her cheek burned so,She must a little touch it; like one lameShe walked away from Gauwaine, with her headStill lifted... more...

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... more...

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... more...

CHAPTER I—THE DWELLINGS OF MID-MARK The tale tells that in times long past there was a dwelling of men beside a great wood.  Before it lay a plain, not very great, but which was, as it were, an isle in the sea of woodland, since even when you stood on the flat ground, you could see trees everywhere in the offing, though as for hills, you could scarce say that there were any; only swellings-up of the... more...

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... more...

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