"Now, Peaseblossom and Mustard Seed, you may sing that little song that I made for you when we were floating up near the Moon, and then we shall soon have to depart as we have so many calls to make this Midsummer Night."
Neither Willie nor Maude could understand how it could be Midsummer Night, because Midsummer Day was such a long way off—quite six weeks, for this was only yet the month of May. But they did not say anything, because Robin Goodfellow was looking at them, and they knew they were invisible, because they could not even feel themselves—which is a curious sensation, when you come to think of it.
Now, this is the song that Peaseblossom and Mustard Seed sang together in unison—the fairies, led by Robin Good fellow, joining in the chorus:—
Will you walk into the Garden.
Will you walk into the garden?
Said the Poppy to the Rose,
Your tender heart don't harden,—
Do not elevate your nose.
For the Gilly-flower has sent us
All because of your perfume,
And the Box a case has lent us,
To make a little room.
So Rosey! Rosey! sweet little posy
Come to our garden fête,
And our little Cock-roaches will lend you their coaches,
So that you mayn't be late.
All the Waterblinks are waiting,
Just beneath the Dogwood's shade;
While the Teazle's loudly prating
To the Madder's little maid!
The old Cranberry grows tartish
All about a Goosefoot Corn,
But the Primrose, dressed quite smartish,
Will explain it's but a thorn.
So Rosey! Rosey! sweet little posy
Come to our garden fête;
Our naughty young nettles shall be on their fettles,
All stinging things to bate.