Up at the League, says a friend, there had been one night a
brisk conversational discussion, as to what would happen on the
Morrow of the Revolution, ...he found himself musing on the
subject-matter of discussion, but still discontentedly and
unhappily. “If I could but see a day of it,” he said to himself; “if I
could but see it!”
And our friend does see it, waking the next morning in the
Utopian future that follows the 1952 revolution.
William Morris is remembered for many and varied creations and
this Utopian romance is far from being the least of them.
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