XXXIX + 

“Hark! ’tis an elfin storm from faery land, + 

Of haggard seeming, but a boon indeed: + 

Arise⁠—arise! the morning is at hand:⁠— + 

The bloated wassailers will never heed:⁠— + 

Let us away, my love, with happy speed; + 

There are no ears to hear, or eyes to see,⁠— + 

Drown’d all in Rhenish and the sleepy mead: + 

Awake! arise! my love, and fearless be, + 

For o’er the southern moors I have a home for thee.” + 