THE WATERY MOON.
The wat'ry moon is in the sky,
Looking all dim and pale on high;
And the traveller gazes with anxious eye,
And thinks it will rain full soon:
And he draws his cloak around him tight,
But if I be not mistaken quite,
He will open that cloak again to-night
Beneath the wat'ry moon.
The wat'ry moon is sinking low,
The traveller's beast is dull and slow,
And neither word, nor spur, nor blow
Will bring him sooner boon.
But the saddle-bags are heavy and full,
And all too much for a beast so dull,
Up this steep shady hill to pull,
Beneath the wat'ry moon.
The wat'ry moon is gone to bed;
The traveller on his way has sped;
The horse seems lighter the road to tread,