Puck has fled the haunts of men:
Ridicule has made him wary:
In the woods, and down the glen,
No one meets a Fairy!
“Cream!” the greedy Goblin cries —
Empties the deserted dairy —
Steals the spoons, and off he flies.
Still we seek our Fairy!
Ah! What form is entering?
Lovelit eyes and laughter airy!
Is not this a better thing,
Child, whose visit thus I sing,
Even than a Fairy?
Puck has ventured back agen:
Ridicule no more affrights him:
In the very haunts of men
Newer sport delights him.
Capering lightly to and fro,
Ever frolicking and funning —
“Crack!” the mimic pistols go!
Hark! The noise is stunning!
All too soon will Childhood gay
Realise Life's sober sadness.
Let's be merry while we may,
Innocent and happy Fay!
Elves were made for gladness!