Explore "The Half of Life Gone" by William Morris on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
THE days have slain the days, and the seasons have gone by / And brought me the summer again; and here on the grass I lie / As erst I lay and was glad ere I meddled with right and with wrong.
Wide lies the mead as of old, and the river is creeping along / By the side of the elm-clad bank that turns its weedy stream, / And grey o'er its hither lip the quivering rushes gleam.