William Morris
I
— how we’ re carpet-making
by the river
a long dream to unroll
and somehow time to pole
a boat
I designed a carpet today —
dogtooth violets
and spoke to a full hall
now that the gall
of our society’ s
corruption stains throughout
Dear Janey I am tossed
by many things
If the change would bring
better art
but if it would not?
O to be home to sail the flood
I’ m possessed
and do possess
Employer
of labor, true —
to get done
the work of the hand…
I’ d be a rich man
had I yielded
on a few points of principle
Item sabots
blouse —
I work in the dye-house
myself
Good sport dyeing
tapestry wool
I like the indigo vats
I’ m drawing patterns so fast
Last night
in sleep I drew a sausage —
somehow I had to eat it first
Colorful shores — mouse ear...
horse-mint... The Strawberry Thief
our new chintz
II
Yeats saw the betterment of the workers
by religion — slow in any case
as the drying of the moon
He was not understood —
I rang the bell
for him to sit down
Yeats left the lecture circuit
yet he could say: no one
so well loved
as Morris
III
Entered new waters
Studied Icelandic
At home last minute signs
to post:
Vetch
grows here — Please do not mow
We saw it — Iceland — the end
of the world rising out of the sea —
cliffs, caves like 13th century
illuminations
of hell-mouths
Rain squalls through moonlight
Cold wet
is so damned wet
Iceland’ s
black sand
Stone buntings’
fly-up-dispersion
Sea-pink and campion a Persian
carpet