On Observer's Trail

Seven Lilliputians left their island In arduous search for seven brides Far and wide, they roamed Over seven seas and countries, seven Alas found none would have them After seven more fruitless years Long beards grown snow white Feeble minds on boots warn out Why only leave the island In the first place Worst to come yet callous men Had little ones snared one by one Next snap-frozen off to marketplace Sold off as garden gnomes.