William Morris



                   In prison


                   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.

                   First publication date: 1858


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