William Morris,
The House of the Wolfings — CHAPTER XXIX
(1889)
“ And to-morrow and to-morrow shall we take the hand of life, And wend adown the meadows, and skirt the darkling wood, And reap the waving acres, and gather in the good. I see a wall before me built up of steel and fire, And hurts and heart-sick striving, and the war-wright's fierce desire ”
