On her favourite pony,
As white as the snow,
The princess so beautiful
Rides down the green row.
The path which the pony
Treads lightly yet bold,
The sand which I strew there,
It glitters like gold.
Oh dear little pink hat,
Bobbing up and then down,
Please throw me a feather;
But soft, lest she frown.
And will you not then take
A blossom from me?
Take a thousand for this one;
Take all for thy fee.
RAE, 1959
On her favourite pony,
As white as the snow,
The princess so beautiful
Rides down the green row.
The path which the pony
Treads lightly yet bold,
The sand which I strew there,
It glitters like gold.
Oh dear little pink hat,
Bobbing up and then down,
Please throw me a feather;
But soft, lest she frown.
And will you not then take
A blossom from me?
Take a thousand for this one;
Take all for thy fee.
RAE, 1959