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Rh I lay where stain of poppies crept Across a summer hill, And drowsy droning grasses slept With heavy heads, and wild bees kept Their slumbrous music still.

I lay and let my lazy dreams Drift with the idle breeze Like leaves that float on autumn streams, Gilded as fairy quinqueremes, Down to their magic seas.

I dreamed,—and all the fragrant earth Was as a sailing cloud. From tears and sorrows, for my mirth I wove a rainbow mist, and birth I folded in death's shroud.

I dreamed, but ever from the vale Beneath the sun-drowsed hills, There rose the pulsing of the flail, The hiss of scythes, the mower's hail, The hum of water mills: