Winthrop Mackworth Praed

1802-1839

660.

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!