Zantedeschia of the Tavari

Have e'er you seen the Pixies, the fold not blest or banned?
They walk upon the waters; they sail upon the land,
They make the green grass greener where'er their footsteps fall,
The wildest hind in the forest comes at their call.
The Pixies know no sorrow, the Pixies feel no fear,
They take no care for harvest or seedtime of the year;
Age lays no finger on them, the reaper time goes by
The Pixies, they who change not, nor grow old or die.
The Pixies though they love us, behold us pass away,
And are not sad for flowers they gathered yesterday.