Page:Bijou Almanacks.pdf/11



We dream no more that fairies dwell In the white lily’s fragrant cell; And yet our little book seems planned By elﬁn touch, in elﬁn land, And sent by Oberon, I ween, An offering to our English queen.

Such small, fair page, should only mark The olive leaves of life’s dull ark; A fairy chronicle, but meant For days of hope and of content. The tiny almanack found here, May it record a glad new year!"