As I lay awake in the white moonlight,
I heard a sweet singing in the wood--
'Out of bed,
Sleepyhead,
Put your white foot now,
Here are we,
'Neath the tree,
Singing round the root now!'
I looked out of window in the white moonlight,
The trees were like snow in the wood--
'Come away
Child and play,
Light wi' the gnomies;
In a mound,
Green and round,
That's where their home is!
'Honey sweet,
Curds to eat,
Cream and frumenty,
Shells and beads,
Poppy seeds,
You shall have plenty.'
But soon as I stooped in the dim moonlight
To put on my stocking and my shoe,
The sweet, sweet singing died sadly away,
And the light of the morning peep'd through:
Then instead of the gnomies there came a red robin
To sing of the buttercups and dew.