“When the moon shines bright on the pebbly beach
And the sea is half-asleep;
Heaving, heaving, evermore,
And the surf falls lazily along the shore,
And the whispering ripples creep.
Then the wet little fairies come out of the waves
And dance in the light of the moon.
With gossamer dresses of white sea-foam,
Brown seaweed sash and coral comb,
And spottled shells for shoon.”