The Box Tree Fairy

Have you seen the Box unclipped,
Never shaped and never snipped?
Often it’s a garden hedge,
Just a narrow little edge;
Or in funny shapes it’s cut,
And it’s very pretty; but—

But, unclipped, it is a tree,
Growing as it likes to be;
And it has its blossoms too;
Tiny buds, the Winter through,
Wait to open in the Spring
In a scented yellow ring.

And among its leaves there play
Little blue-tits, brisk and gay.