"The Leprechaun", 1970 by Michael F. Nyiri

In a bright green forest by a rock,
There came a faintly humming, then a knock.
A bee, she came by chasing a small flea.
The knock, I'm sure came directly from a tree.

This tree I'm talkin' bout was not too old.
From out the ground it rose, it's bottom bathed in gold.
A leprechaun, a wily lad, then stepped afore the tree,
And with a slightly noddin', took his hat off before me.

"The gold," he said, "you're lookin' at,
"And the knock you heard me give,
"Is part of an ancient ritual,
"We leprechauns all weave.
"The ritual takes place, by bringin' forth some gold,
"And plantin' it around the base of any tree not old."

"Well what," I asked, a puzzling look,
Upon my awestruck face,
"Does all this mean to me,
"And all the leprechaun race?
"Do I, just standing here, without some charm nor wit,
"Be a lonely stander-by, of a part of it?"

'The ritual, you meanin'," said the leprechaun all smiles.
"What you think we leprechauns walkin' be for miles?
"The answer this, my fine young man,"
He cheerfully said to me,
"The ritual says, in common terms,
"A rich man you might be.

"We planted gold, to let it grow,
"And wait for worthy men,
"To find it, and look straight at it,
"And see the leprechaun, then;
"We'd give him all, as he did stop,
"Then wish him on his way.
"That's you, my lad," he gleely said,
"I give you it today."

The leprechaun then took his leave,
And bade me pick the gold.
I made a motion to, 
Just as he vanished, saying "go."
I picked it up, every piece,
Then started walking home.
And all this time, up to this day,
To that tree I always roam.