Page:The Dream, John Masefield, 1922.djvu/30

 And climbing up the stairs with arras hung,

I looked upon a court of old stones grey,

Where o'er a globe of gold a galleon swung

Creaking with age and showing the wind's way.

There, flattered to a smile, the barn cat lay

Tasting the sun with purrings drowsily,

Sun-soaked, content, with drowsed green-slitted eye.

[24]