Two pixies there were in the woods of green
Their colours bright against the brown of tree
Eyes were sparkling, spirits full of beans
And mischief, magic, tricks – it’s plain to see.
Now look! There in little hands, what have they?
Is it flowers they offer you, or not?
Toadstools, it seemed, or does the light play
tricks with eyes and mind? Easily you’re caught.
Yet see how they calmly now sit and smile
No wickedness, nor would they fool you yet
‘Tiz but mushrooms in a slow-growing pile
the lunch their mother sent them out to get
Now fear you not the things seen in the gloom
Or have you eaten of a bad mushroom?