When nurse won't talk of fairies And says that I'm a bother,'Tis then I run away and hide, Or seek my eldest brother.
He says that I'm an elf-child, And strokes my tangled hair,While I sit staring at the fire, My head against his chair.
He reads to me from great big books, Hans Andersen and Grimm,I seem to roam thro' twisted woods And peer in caverns dim.
I never am afraid at night, But when the moonbeams fall,I hold my frock and dance as light As shadows on the wall.
I love to watch the glancing fire; It fills me with delightTo see reflected, tricksome flames Dance in the window bright.
They mingle with the snow outside, And make a magic land,Where little figures beckon me Curtseying, hand in hand.
And then I want to run to them, And Nurse begins to scold,Saying I'd surely die out there And perish in the cold.
It's when I hear night-voices call And see the "Folk" outsideThat Mother calls me, "changeling-child" And then I run and hide.
