Beneath the comfortable sky
All afternoon I love to lie,
And think about the books I've read
And all the things I dream in bed,
When I am not quite sleeping yet—
The things that day makes me forget.
The white clouds looked like ships one day,
And then like lambkins strayed away;
And, as I look, I understand
Just where it is that's Fairyland.
It's only lying down, you know,
The clouds make pictures for me, so
When I stand up to see them, why,
There's nothing there but clouds and sky!