A wee little fellow in green,
With a beard and a mischievous sheen,
He hides 'neath the shamrocks,
With gold in his box,
And dances a jig, light and keen.

With shoes all a-buckle and green,
A leprechaun, small, can be seen,
His gold pot he hides,
Where the rainbow subsides,
A mischievous sight, so it seems.

They say if you catch him so bold,
He'll grant wishes, or so I've been told,
But they're slippery and sly,
And quick with a wink of an eye,
They vanish, their secrets to hold.