One sunny day in early spring,
When sap was rising in the trees,
And songbirds rose, and taking wing
Flew to and fro upon the breeze,
Over my eyes I pulled my cap,
And, in my hammock, took a nap.
Now, I'm not certain, but it seems,
Amidst the birdsong and the wind,
I had the most fantastic dreams,
Where images would shift and blend,
And slowly, slowly drift apart ---
And then, I woke up with a start.
But, just before I fully woke,
I heard the strangest, haunting tune,
Like tongues of flame that turn to smoke,
Like dust of stars and beams of moon;
Flutes, and harp strings touched by hand,
Magical sounds from Faerie-Land.