The Little Shepherdess To Her Lambs

Dance, my dearies, dance, my pretties,
In a snowy ring;
I will pipe the merry ditties
That the fairies sing.
Blackbirds, thrushes, linnets, starlings —
They will pipe them, too,
And the little winds, my darlings,
All shall dance with you.

Dance, my dearies, dance, my pretties,
On the daisied floors;
Only in the smoky cities
Folk are still indoors.
All along the meadow highways
Leap and skip and prance;
All among the elfin byways
Dance, my dearies, dance.