I looked at her one morning, on a very
windy day,
And she saw me and she stared at me in such
a nasty way,
I felt afraid, and certain sure that she must be
a witch,
And keep all sorts of stolen treasures hidden
in a ditch.
And as I looked at her, and she was staring up
at me,
I saw a fairy flying low from out the chestnut
tree,
She held a little knife, and oh, she cut the
strings right through,
That held the big balloons together, then away
she flew!
And off went all the purple ones and off went
all the pink,
A-flying in the air as high as ever you could
think,
Around the chimney pots, and right away up
in the sky,
Until they bumped into the clouds, a-sailing
slowly by.
And then I looked to see what that old woman
had to say,
But there wasn’t any sign of her, she’d
vanished right away,
She must have been a wicked witch, and by
the fairies slain,
For tho’ I’ve looked each morning, she has
never come again.
[FAIRY MUSIC]
I found a little fairy flute
Beneath a harebell blue;
I sat me down upon the moss
And blew a note or two.
And as I blew the rabbits came
Around me in the sun,
And little mice and velvet moles
Came creeping, one by one.
A swallow perched upon my head,
A robin on my thumb,
The thrushes sang in tune with me,
The bees began to hum.
I loved to see them all around
And wished they’d always stay,
When down a little fairy flew
And snatched my flute away!
And then the swallow fluttered off,
And gone were all the bees,
The rabbits ran, and I was left
Alone among the trees!