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 litered 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 the 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 maybe hear with fairy ears and see with fairy 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 a Bank Holiday.