I LEAVE the world to-morrow,? 
 What news for Fairyland? 
I?m tired of dust and sorrow 
 And folk on every hand. 
 
A moon more calm and splendid 
 Moves there through deeper skies, 
By maiden stars attended 
 She peaces goddes-wise. 
 
And there no wrath oppresses, 
 And there no teardrops start, 
There cool winds breathe caresses, 
 That soothe the weary heart. 
 
The wealth the mad world follows 
 Turns ashes in the hand 
Of him who sees the hollows 
 And glades of Fairyland. 
 
And pine boughs sigh no sorrow 
 Where fairy rotas play,? 
I leave the world to-morrow 
 For ever and a day.