And think no more on what you quit—
On hearth and home, on streets and shops,
On trousers, ties, and hunting-tops—
Think no more on City dinners,
On office hours and all the winners—
For you are fitted by field and dell
Us to follow, with us to dwell,
To be for ever free from harm,
A fairy changeling by this charm,
To be the lord of light and mirth,