SONG OF THE ELF

I Where the poppies, with their shields, Sentinel Forest and the harvest fields, In the bell Of a blossom, fair to see, There I stall the bumblebee, My good stud; There I stable him and hold, Harness him with hairy gold; There I ease his burly back Of the honey and its sack Filched from bloom and bud. II Where the glow-worm lights its lamp, There I lie; Where, above the grasses damp, Moths go by; Now within the fussy brook, Where the waters wind and crook Round the rocks, I go sailing down the gloom Straddling light a wisp of broom; Or, beneath the owlet moon, Trip it to the cricket's tune Tossing back my locks. III Ere the crowfoot on the lawn Lifts its head, Or the glow-worm's light be gone, Dim and dead, In a cobweb-hammock I Swing between two ferns and lie Hid away; Where the drowsy musk-rose blows And a sleepy runnel flows, In the land of Faery, There I rock, where none can see, All the summer day.