THE SONG OF
THE HONEYSUCKLE FAIRY

The lane is deep, the bank is steep,
The tangled hedge is high;
And clinging, twisting, up I creep,
And climb towards the sky.
O Honeysuckle, mounting high!
Woodbine, climbing to the sky!

The people in the lane below
Look up and see me there,
Where I my honey-trumpets blow,
Whose sweetness fills the air.
O Honeysuckle, waving there!
0 Woodbine, scenting all the air!