Song V Through The Trouble And Tangle
Love is enough: through the trouble and tangle From yesterday's dawning to yesterday's night I sought through the vales where the prisoned winds wrangle, Till, wearied and bleeding, at end of the light I met him, and we wrestled, and great was my might. O great was my joy, though no rest was around me, Though mid wastes of the world were we twain all alone, For methought that I conquered and he knelt and he crowned me, And the driving rain ceased, and the wind ceased to moan, And through clefts of the clouds her planet outshone. O through clefts of the clouds 'gan the world to awaken, And the bitter wind piped, and down drifted the rain, And I was alone—and yet not forsaken, For the grass was untrodden except by my pain: With a Shadow of the Night had I wrestled in vain. And the Shadow of the Night and not Love was departed; I was sore,
I was weary, yet Love lived to seek;
So I scaled the dark mountains, and wandered sad-hearted Over wearier wastes, where e'en sunlight was bleak, With no rest of the night for my soul waxen weak. With no rest of the night; for I waked mid a story Of a land wherein Love is the light and the lord,
Where my tale shall be heard, and my wounds gain a glory, And my tears be a treasure to add to the hoard Of pleasure laid up for his people's reward. Ah, pleasure laid up!
Haste then onward and listen, For the wind of the waste has no music like this,
And not thus do the rocks of the wilderness glisten: With the host of his faithful through sorrow and bliss My Lord goeth forth now, and knows me for his.
William Morris
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Love Is Enough Songs I-IX
Love is enough: though the World be And the woods have no voice but the voice of complaining, Though the sky be too dark for dim eyes to The gold-cups and daisies fair blooming thereunder,
Summer
Summer looked for long am I: Much shall change or e'er I die Prithee take it not Though I weary thee with bliss
March
Slayer of the winter, art thou here again O welcome, thou that's bring'st the summer nigh The bitter wind makes not thy victory vain, Nor will we mock thee for thy faint blue sky