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!