Sometime a-down a magic stream a little boat comes sailing,
A sailing in the ev'ning just before the shadows fall;
It pauses in the meadows by the bank where I stand waiting,
Then sweet and clear upon the air I hear the fairies call.
I step into the tiny craft, and gently we go drifting
Away, away, past witching woods where bright-eyed squirrels play,
And the soft enchanting music of fairy pipes is lilting,
And blending with the melody of elfin voices gay.
Yet still we float upon the tide, my boat and I a-dreaming,
Onward to where the battlements of fairyland gleam white;
And spires are rearing delicate against a sky of azure,
Until we reach the distant border of the kingdom of delight.

Sometime a-down a magic stream a little boat comes sailing.