Song of Fairies Robbing an Orchard
Song of Fairies Robbing an Orchard
Leigh Hunt
We, the Fairies, blithe and antic,
Of dimensions not gigantic,
Though the moonshine mostly keep us,
Oft in orchards frisk and peep us.
Stolen sweets are always sweeter,
Stolen kisses much completer,
Stolen looks are nice in chapels,
Stolen, stolen, be your apples.
When to bed the world are bobbing,
Then's the time for orchard-robbing;
Yet the fruit were scarce worth peeling,
Were it not for stealing, stealing.
Verse breaks and indentation are preserved. Wrapped lines have a hanging indent. Width adapts to your screen.
Public domain text via the PoetryDB open archive.
