I never had a title-deed To my estate. But little heed Eyes give to me, when I walk by My fields, to see who occupy. Some clumsy men who lease and hire And cut my trees to feed their fire, Own all the land that I possess, And tax my tenants to distress. And if I say I had been first, And, reaping, left for them the worst, That they were beggars at the hands Of dwellers on my royal lands, With idle laugh of passing scorn As unto words of madness born, They would reply I do not care; They cannot crowd the charméd air; They cannot touch the bonds I hold On all that they have bought and sold. They can waylay my faithful bees, Who, lulled to sleep, with fatal ease, Are robbe. Is one day's honey sweet Thus snatched? All summer round my feet In golden drifts from plumy wings, In shining drops on fragrant things Free gift, it came to me. My corn, With burnished banners, morn by morn, Comes out to meet and honor me; The glittering ranks spread royally Far as I walk. When hasty greed Tramples it down for food and seed, I, with a certain veiled delight, Hear half the crop is lost by blight.
Letter of the law these may fulfil, Plant where they like, slay what they will, Count up their gains and make them great; Nevertheless, the whole estate Always belongs to me and mine. We are the only royal line. And though I have no title-deed My tenants pay me royal heed When our sweet fields I wander by To see what strangers occupy.