Perhaps in small blue diving bells
They plunge beneath the waves,
Inhabiting the wreathed shells
That lie in coral caves
Perhaps in red
Vesuvius Carousals they maintain
And cheer their little spirits up
Till green leaves come again
Till green leaves come again.
When back they come
There'll be glad mirth
And music in the air,
And Fairy wings upon the earth,
And mischief everywhere.
The maids, to keep the elves aloof,
Will bar the doors in vain,
No keyhole will be Fairy proof
When green leaves come again
When green leaves come again.
- Thomas Haynes Bayly -