HE has conn'd the lesson now;   He has read the book of pain: There are furrows on his brow;   I must make it smooth again.

Lo! I knock the spurs away;   Lo! I loosen belt and brand; Hark! I hear the courser neigh   For his stall in Fairy-land.

Bring the cap, and bring the vest;   Buckle on his sandal shoon; Fetch his memory from the chest   In the treasury of the moon.

I have taught him to be wise   For a little maiden's sake;— Lo! he opens his glad eyes,   Softly, slowly: Minstrel, wake!