AtLast_[07]

To a dry bedded patch. Sleepyhead summertime Cuddled in thatch Sleepyhead summertime Cuddled in thatch

Faintly songs sung Echo airily Throughout feathered skies.

Grassy blades waving Silent good-bys.

Though no thought lies In yawns, Stilled within, Breathes a cry:

Winter's death Summer's sleep Life a short sigh.

Sleepyhead summertime Closes your eyes.