Come up! come up from the lake with me.
Voices. [from below]
Right gladly would we mount with thee;
We wash, and wash, and cease from washing never;
Our skins are as white as white can be,
But we are as dry and barren as ever.
Both Choruses.
The wind is hushed, the stars take flight,
The sullen moon hath veiled her light,
The magic choir from whizzing wings,