William Morris

A Good Knight 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.
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