If I lie at ease in the cradling trees,
Till the day drops down in the golden seas,
Till the light shall die from the warm, wide sky,
And the cool night cover me—what care I?

All as one as when the day is done,
The woven woof or the web unspun:
In my leafy nest I will lie at rest,
A careless dreamer, and that is best.

Does a brown eye wake for a trouble’s sake,
Ye little tenants of wood and brake?
What deeper woe does a wild-bee know
Than to vex the heart of a honey-blow?

Bonny birds, sing to me, butterflies wing to me;
Slender convolvulus, flutter and cling to me;
Dim spice-odors and meadow-musk,
Blow about me from dawn to dusk!

Though the city frown from her hill-tops brown,
And the weary toilers go up and down,
I will lie at rest in my leafy nest,
A careless dreamer, and that is best.