The Woodpecker.

I once a King and chief
Now am the tree-bark's thief,
Ever 'twixt trunk and leaf
Chasing the prey.

William Morris

William Morris was a British textile designer, poet, novelist, translator, and socialist activist. Associated with the British Arts and Crafts Movement, he was a major influence on the development of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood. Morris is recognized for his contributions to the revival of traditional British textile arts and methods of production. He was also a founding member of the Socialist League and played a significant role in the early Socialist movement in England. His works reflect his political views and his passion for medievalism and craftsmanship.

William Morris

The Message Of The March Wind 1

William Morris, Simple Poetry

Golden Wings

William Morris, Simple Poetry

The Wind

William Morris, Simple Poetry

Of The Three Seekers.

William Morris, Simple Poetry

English

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The Forest.

Pear-tree.

By woodman's edge I faint and fail;
By craftsman's edge I tell the tale.

Chestnut-tree.

High in the wood, high o'er the hall,
Aloft I rise when low I fall.

Oak-tree.

Unmoved I stand what wind may blow.
Swift, swift before the wind I go.

William Morris

The Lion.

The Beasts that be
In wood and waste,
Now sit and see,
Nor ride nor haste.

William Morris

The Woodpecker.

His bill an auger is,
His head, a cap and frill.
He laboreth at every tree, --
A worm his utmost goal.

Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

Tapestry Trees.

Oak.

I am the Roof-tree and the Keel;
I bridge the seas for woe and weal.

Fir.

High o'er the lordly oak I stand,
And drive him on from land to land.

Ash.

I heft my brother's iron bane;
I shaft the spear, and build the wain.

Yew.

Dark down the windy dale I grow,
The father of the fateful Bow.

Poplar.

The war-shaft and the milking-bowl
I make, and keep the hay-wain whole.

Olive.

The King I bless; the lamps I trim;
In my warm wave do fishes swim.

Apple-tree.

I bowed my head to Adam's will;
The cups of toiling men I fill.

Vine.

I draw the blood from out the earth;
I store the sun for wi...

William Morris

Woodman, Spare that Tree!

Woodman, spare that tree!
Touch not a single bough!
In youth it sheltered me,
And I'll protect it now.
'Twas my forefather's hand
That placed it near his cot;
There, woodman, let it stand,
Thy axe shall harm it not.

That old familiar tree,
Whose glory and renown
Are spread o'er land and sea--
And wouldst thou hew it down?
Woodman, forebear thy stroke!
Cut not its earth-bound ties;
Oh, spare that aged oak,
Now towering to the skies!

When but an idle boy,
I sought its grateful shade;
In all their gushing joy
Here, too, my sisters played.
My mother kissed me here;
My father pressed my hand--
Forgive this foolish tear,
But let that old oak stand.

My heart-strings round thee cling,
Close as thy bark, ol...

George Pope Morris

Camouflage

Beside the bare and beaten track of travelling flocks and herds
The woodpecker went tapping on, the postman of the birds,
"I've got a letter here," he said, "that no one's understood,
Addressed as follows: 'To the bird that's like a piece of wood.'

"The soldier bird got very cross, it wasn't meant for her;
The spurwing plover had a try to stab me with a spur:
The jackass laughed, and said the thing was written for a lark.
I think I'll chuck this postman job and take to stripping bark."

Then all the birds for miles around came in to lend a hand;
They perched upon a broken limb as thick as they could stand,
And just as old man eaglehawk prepared to have his say
A portion of the broken limb got up and flew away.

Then, casting grammar to the winds, the postman said,...

Andrew Barton Paterson