THE fairies have never a penny to spend,

They haven't a thing put by,
But theirs is the dower of bird and of flower

And theirs are the earth and the sky.
And though you should live in a palace of gold

Or sleep in a dried-up ditch,
You could never be poor as the fairies are,
And never as rich.

Since ever and ever the world began

They have danced like a ribbon of flame,

They have sung their song through the centuries

long
And yet it is never the same.

And though you be foolish or though you be wise,
With hair of silver or gold,

You could never be young as the fairies are,

And never as old.