And the sun has gone to bed, 
And the round moon lifts her head 
Coyly on the old earth smiling, 
Lovers to their trysts beguiling — 
While some fairies are for dancing. 
Cutting capers or romancing, 
I like best to take my ease 
Underneath the whispering trees. 
Smoke my pipe and sniff the breeze* 
45 
