A Good Knight In Prison

By William Morris

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.