Deep beneath the budding oak,
Below all branches high,
A little elfin maiden sits,
Apeering at the sky.
Her face is pale,
Complexion fair,
With bright red lips,
And dusty hair.
Her gown is diamonds,
And gold aflame,
Her bodice guilded to contain.
The sky above is warm and bright,
Clouds skuttle by,
Like a wind blown kite.
Now she looks down
to the bluebells fair,
their bright little bells
Who ring without care.
Her eyes; they twinkle!
Her smile shines bright.
Now she is laughing,
With unleashed delight.
For out of the ground,
A wee field mouse
Has popped out it's head
From it's underground house.