In lily cup I'll nest me, 
From fairy dance to rest me, 
  For the silver moon 
  Dips low, and soon 
Would the goblins swart molest me. 

But never a gnome will mock me, 
Nor peering toad-face shock me, 
  While the wind-elf blithe 
  Stands on tiptoe lithe 
By the lily s stem to rock me; 

And the star-sprites lean above me, 
For all the star-sprites love me; 
  In circle fair 
  Each holds in air 
His small gold torch above me. 

Come, soft-winged Sleep, and kiss me, 
For the dream-land fairies miss me, 
  Till thy sweet, cool lips 
  Part the folded tips 
Of my lily-couch to kiss me. 

But when thy spells unbind me 
The sunbeams shall not find me, 
  And my dreamy nest 
  Be only guessed 
By the fragrance left behind me.