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A Child's Own Book of Verse, Book Three by  Ada M. Skinner and Frances Gillespy Wickes






Come follow, follow me,

You fairy elves that be;

Which circle on the green,

Come follow Mab your queen.

Hand in hand let's dance around,

For this place is fairy ground.

When mortals are at rest,

And snoring in their nest,

Unheard and unespied

Through keyholes we do glide;

Over tables, stools and shelves,

We trip it with our fairy elves.

And if the house be foul

With platter, dish or bowl,

Upstairs we nimbly creep,

And find the sluts asleep;


There we pinch their arms and thighs;

None escapes, nor none espies.

But if the house be swept,

And from uncleanness kept,

We praise the household maid,

And duly she is paid;

For we use before we go

To drop a tester in her shoe.

Upon a mushroom's head

Our tablecloth is spread;

A grain of rye or wheat

Is manchet, which we eat;

Pearly drops of dew we drink

In acorn cups filled to the brink.

The grasshopper, gnat and fly,

Serve for our minstrelsy;

Grace said, we dance awhile

And so the time beguile;

And if the moon doth hide her head,

The glowworm lights us home to bed.

On tops of dewy grass

So nimbly do we pass,

The young and tender stalk

Ne'er bends when we do walk;

Yet in the morning may be seen

Where we the night before have been.


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