Picnics

If you go a-picnicking and throw your scraps about,
You'll never see the little folk go running in and out;
And if you leave your orange-peel all littered on the grass,
You'll never go to Fairy Land or see the fairies pass.
For empty tins and tangled strings
And paper bags are not the things
To scatter where a linnet sings.

So if you go a-picnicking remember you're a guest
Of all the tiny people, and you'll really find it best
To leave their ballroom tidy and to clear away the mess,
And perhaps you'll see a fairy in her newest dancing dress.
But paper bags and broken combs
Will really wreck the pixie homes
And frighten all the tiny gnomes.

But if you go a-picnicking and you are elfin wise,
You'll may be hear with fairy ears and see with goblin eyes;
The little folk will welcome you, and they will open wide
The hidden doors of Fairy Land, and you will pass inside,
And maybe see a baby fay
White cradled in a cherry spray,
Although it is Bank Holiday.
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