Sounds ever after as a sullen bell,
Remember'd knolling a departing friend. *
I am not only witty in myself, but the cause that wit is in other men.
V He hath eaten me out of house and home.
How many thousand of my poorest subjects
Are at this hour asleep. O sleep, O gentle sleep,
Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee,
That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down,
And steep my senses in forgetfulness?
Why rather, sleep, liest thou in smoky cribs,
Upon uneasy pallets stretching thee,
And hush'd with buzzing night-flies to thy slumber,
Than in the perfum'd chambers of the great,
Under the canopies of costly state,
And lull'd with sounds of sweetest melody?
O! thou dull god, why liest thou with the vile,
In loathsome beds; and leav'st the kingly couch,
A watch-case, or a common 'larum-bell ?
Wilt thou upon the high and giddy mast
Seal up the ship-boy's eyes, and rock his brains
* Not“ departed friend,” as erroneously printed in some copies.
