A giant lay a sleeping, sleeping in his bed
with a soft fluffy white cloud as a pillow for his head
His bedposts were redwood trees, to the sky they reached
and a million ship's sails were sewn together for his sheet

His matress was stuffed with grass from the Sahara Plains
(which is the reason, I am told, that not a blade there remains)
His snores, they sound like thunder, while he is sleeping in his bed
while dreams of large and grand things go dancing through his head

He dreams of giant roc birds who can carry elephants
in his dreams the world does shake while he does a giant dance
He dreams of his favorite mountain where he sat watching the sea
and how he played with dragons and invited them for tea

He dreams of when the world was young and all was fresh and new
and of how he made a circle of rocks when there was nothing to do
Of the time he followed a rainbow until he reached the end
and chatted with the leprechauns and made them all his friends

But for now our giant has softly gone to bed
we still can see (if we look) the cloud pillow for his head
and if we search we may find the mountain by the sea
where he sat so long ago, inviting dragons to tea