I. br br An afternoon as ripe with heat br As might the golden pippin be br With mellowness if at my feet br It dropped now from the apple-tree br My hammock swings in lazily. br br br II. br br The boughs about me spread a shade br That shields me from the sun, but weaves br With breezy shuttles through the leaves br Blue rifts of skies, to gleam and fade br Upon the eyes that only see br Just of themselves, all drowsily. br br br III. br br Above me drifts the fallen skein br Of some tired spider, looped and blown, br As fragile as a strand of rain, br Across the air, and upward thrown br By breaths of hayfields newly mown-- br So glimmering it is and fine, br I doubt these drowsy eyes of mine. br br br IV. br br Far-off and faint as voices pent br In mines, and heard from underground, br Come murmurs as of discontent, br And clamorings of sullen sound br The city sends me, as, I guess, br To vex me, though they do but bless br Me in my drowsy fastnesses. br br br V. br br I have no care. I only know br My hammock hides and holds me here br In lands of shade a prisoner: br While lazily the breezes blow br Light leaves of sunshine over me, br And back and forth and to and fro br I swing, enwrapped in some hushed glee, br Smiling at all things drowsily.