For Good Luck

Little Kings and Queens of the May,

If you want to be,

Every one of you, very good,

In this beautiful, beautiful, beautiful wood,

Where the little birds' heads get so turned with delight

That some of them sing all night:

Whatever you pluck,

Leave some for good luck!

Picked from the stalk or pulled by the root,

From overhead or under foot,

Water-wonders of pond or brook—

Wherever you look,

And whatever you find,

Leave something behind:

Some for the Naiads,

Some for the Dryads,

And a bit for the Nixies and Pixies!