She makes a little sound
Through her two front teeth
That trembled through the ancient ground
And sent the sprites to sleep.

Lit by amber fireflies,
They slumbered through the years,
’Till they awoke with widened eyes
Blue with angel tears.

For they awoke to chaos
To city life’s foul gloom,
To churches filled with hot gaslight
Blessed by pure white doom.

The little girls weren’t singing.
They did not make a sound.
No two-front-teeth formed whistling
To resonate through ground.

So once again they burrowed
Through soil as black as night
And lit by amber fireflies old
They wept for man’s new plight.

Their tears dripped hard on concrete
And thus they let rip cries,
That trembled through the ancient ground
And bid mankind goodbye.

Thus they slept through ages
As Earth did crumble slow,
And when they did awake once more
The world was all aglow.

Alight with fresh green grasses,
With birdsong blessed with voice,
And yet there was no man about
And so the sprites rejoiced.