Elf of the Woodlands

Now he stops --

Now he hops --

Now cautiously trips!

On tip-toe,

And slip-toe

He scuttles and skips;

Along the grass gliding,

Half dancing, half sliding,

Oft stooping, half hiding --

Then bolt upright he walks,

And whispering talks

To himself,

Pretty elf;

And quaint sounds he utters,

Till close to the shutters

Of the cot that's still sleeping,

He climbs up close, peeping,

And pokes in each crevice his sharp little nose;

Till one shutter creaks,

And opening squeaks,

And the elfin dances and crows!

And through the cracked pane --

In he goes!