Page:Boileau's Lutrin - a mock-heroic poem. In six canto's. Render'd into English verse. To which is prefix'd some account of Boileau's writings, and this translation. (IA boileauslutrinmo00boil).pdf/99

And now Sweet Sleep forsakes each wondring Eye;
The Street, astonish'd, rises at the Cry:
At length the Canons their strong Fetters break,
Unseal their Lids, and in Confusion Wake:
Monstrous and wild Ideas Each Conceives,
And what his Fancy breeds, his Fear believes:
One Thinks loud Thunder Splits the Sacred Choire;
The Chapel burning with a ^[1]Second Fire:
Others more Sad and Phlegmatick than He
Guess't it the Toning of the ^[2]Tenebræ:
A Third, still Dozing with the Fumes of Wine,$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$
Believes it Noon^{[errata 1]}, Vows 'tis a laid Design,
And Grumbles that he was not Call'd to Dine.

So when Returning Phœbus gilds the Year,
And Chears with Genial Warmth our Hemisphere;

1. Once burnt down, In 1618.
2. The Service in the Romish Church the Week before Easter.

When

Errata

1. Original: Believes it Three was amended to Believes it Noon: detail