O we that bless the wee folk
Have naught to fear,
And ne'er an elfin arrow
Will come us near;
For they'll give skill in music,
And every wish obey--
The wise folk, the peace folk, the folk that work and play.

They'll hasten here at harvest,
They will shear and bind;
They'll come with elfin music
On a western wind;
All night they'll sit among the sheaves,
Or herd the kine that stray--
The quick folk, the fine folk, the folk that ask no pay.

Betimes they will be spinning
The while we sleep,
They'll clamber down the chimney,
Or through keyholes creep;
And when they come to borrow meal
We'll ne'er them send away--
The good folk, the honest folk, the folk that work alway.

O never wrong the wee folk--
The red folk and green,
Nor name them on the Fridays,
Or at Hallowe'en;
The helpless and unwary then
And bairns they lure away--