But little reck'd Rupert these queer-looking brutes, Or the efts and the newts That crawled up his boots, For a sight, beyond any of which I've made mention, In a moment completely absorb'd his attention. A huge crystal bath, which, with water far clearer Than George Robins' filters, or Thorpe's (which are dearer), Have ever distill'd, To the summit was fill'd, Lay stretch'd out before him,--and every nerve thrill'd As scores of young women Were diving and swimming, Till the vision a perfect quandary put him in;-- All slightly accoutred in gauzes and lawns, They came floating about him like so many prawns. Sir Rupert, who (barring the few peccadilloes Alluded to,) ere he lept into the billows Possess'd irreproachable morals, began To feel rather queer, as a modest young man; When forth stepp'd a dame, whom he recognised soon As the one he had seen by the light of the moon, And lisp'd, while a soft smile attended each sentence, "Sir Rupert, I'm happy to make your acquaintance; My name is Lurline, And the ladies you've seen, All do me the honour to call me their Queen; I'm delighted to see you, sir, down in the Rhine here, And hope you can make it convenient to dine here." The Knight blush'd, and bowed, As he ogled the crowd Of subaqueous beauties, then answer'd aloud: "Ma'am, you do me much honour,--I cannot express The delight I shall feel--if you'll pardon my dress-- May I venture to say, when a gentleman jumps In the river at midnight for want of 'the dumps,' He rarely puts on his knee-breeches and pumps; If I could but have guess'd--what I sensibly feel-- Your politeness--I'd not have come _en dishabille_, But have put on my _silk_ tights in lieu of my _steel_." Quoth the lady, "Dear sir, no apologies, pray, You will take our 'pot-luck' in the family way; We can give you a dish Of some decentish fish, And our water's thought fairish; but here in the Rhine, I can't say we pique ourselves much on our wine." The Knight made a bow more profound than before, When a Dory-faced page oped the dining-room door, And said, bending his knee, "_Madame, on a servi!_" Rupert tender'd his arm, led Lurline to her place, And a fat little Mer-man stood up and said grace.