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In the Wood

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In the Wood
written by William Henry Davies
Nature Poems (1908) Link to further information




I lie on Joy's enchanted ground:
No other noise but these green trees
That sigh and cling to every breeze;
And that deep solemn, hollow sound
Born of the graves, and made by Bees.

Now, do I think of this packed world,
Where thousands of rich people sweat,
Like common slaves, in idle fret;
Not knowing how to buy with gold
This house of Joy, that makes no debt.

What little wealth true Joy doth need!
I pay for wants that make no show;
I pay my way and nothing owe;
I drink my ale, I smoke my weed,
And take my time where'er I go.

This work is in the public domain in countries where the copyright term is the author's life plus 70 years or less.