Wake, Lady, wake! the midnight Moon Sails through the cloudless skies of June; The Stars gaze sweetly on the stream, Which in the brightness of their beam, One sheet of glory lies; The glow-worm lends its little light, And all that's beautiful and bright Is shining in our world to-night, Save thy bright eyes, Wake, Lady! wake! the nightingale Tells to the Moon her love-lorn tale; Now doth the brook that's hush'd by day, As through the vale she winds her way, In murmurs sweet rejoice; The leaves, by the soft night-wind stirr'd, Are whispering many a gentle word, And all Earth's sweetest sounds are heard, Save thy sweet voice. Wake, Lady! wake! thy lover waits, Thy steed stands saddled at the gates; Here is a garment, rich and rare, To wrap thee from the cold night-air; Th' appointed hour is flown. Danger and doubt have vanish'd quite, Our way before lies clear and right, And all is ready for the flight, Save thou alone! Wake, Lady! wake! I have a wreath Thy broad fair brow should rise beneath; I have a ring that must not shine On any finger, Love! but thine-- I've kept my plighted vow; Beneath thy casement here I stand, To lead thee by thine own white hand, Far from this dull and captive strand-- But where art thou? Wake, Lady! wake! She wakes! she wakes! Through the green mead her course she takes; And now her lover's arms enfold A prize more precious far than gold, Blushing like morning's ray; Now mount thy palfrey, Maiden kind! Nor pause to cast one look behind, But swifter than the viewless wind, Away! away! _Ibid_. * * * * * THE GATHERER "A snapper-up of unconsidered trifles." SHAKSPEARE. * * * * * FILTHY WATER.