Up to the top where the six trees stand. . . .
And there would I rest, and lie,
My chin in my hands, and gaze
At the dazzle of sand below,
And the green waves curling slow,
And the grey-blue distant haze
Where the sea goes up to the sky. . . .
And I’d say to myself as I looked so lazily down at the sea:
“There’s nobody else in the world, and the world was made for me.”