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Historical & Legendary Ballads & Songs

By Walter Thornbury. Illustrated by J. Whistler, F. Walker, John Tenniel, J. D. Watson, W. Small, F. Sandys, G. J. Pinwell, T. Morten, M. J. Lawless, and many others

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Basking.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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147

Basking.

I've made myself a nest
Where the grass is all in flower,
Where the wild rose sheds its leaves,
Where the great ox-daisies tower.
I watch the butterfly
Roam all the wide field over,
As lazily I lie
For once at least in clover.
The swallows skim and dip
Around me and above me;
The wild doves in the copse
Murmur as if they love me.
I hear a voice once dear
In every blackbird's whistle,
And even in the chirp
Of the goldfinch on the thistle.

148

I am lord of these domains
For a Summer hour at least,
And I bid the fairies come
To the revel and the feast,
From the honeysuckle's bloom,
From the bell of the foxglove swaying,
From the cup of every flower
Where the little rogues are playing.
My pipe by my lazy hand
Burns like a gunner's fuse,
When the dead men trampled lie;
And see, fast over my shoes
The ants, an eager host,
Are bent upon invading,
Fierce, ruthless, hot, and keen,
For conquest and crusading.
Between the wiry stalks
Of grasses gaily dancing
I see shy creatures peep,
And fairies' quick eyes glancing;
Small monsters climb and pry
Upon the cowslip blossom,
Clinging like sailor boys
When the sou'-westers toss 'em.
The dragon-fly with wings
Of silver gauze is darting;
The midges circling waltz,
Now meeting, and now parting.
In the brook that near me flows
The yellow lily's swimming,
Where just beyond the mill
The fuller stream is brimming.
Close by me in the field
The dappled cows are browsing,
And there on the kingcup's gold
The sleeping bee is drowsing.
As the fairies will not come,
At least in any number,
I'll steal just half an hour
For a little dreamy slumber.
I feel like a man enchanted
By these Summer sounds and sights;
Titania, come in splendour,
Crowned with thy glowworm lights.
Come in the sunlight dim,
And kiss me as I'm sleeping;
Already thy fairy guards
Their secret watch are keeping.
I fall from cloud to cloud,
Down a precipice of dreams,
Deeper than ever Vulcan fell—
I see strange lands and streams;
When all at once soft lips touch mine
(It's a fact that I am stating),
And the sweetest voice you ever heard
Says, “Darling, tea is waiting.”