Page:The castle of Indolence - an allegorical poem - Written in imitation of Spenser (IA castleofindolenc00thomiala).pdf/21

XXIV.

Wak'd by the Croud, slow from his Bench arose

A comely full-spred Porter, swoln with Sleep:
His calm, broad, thoughtless Aspect breath'd Repose;
And in sweet Torpor he was plunged deep,
Ne could himself from ceaseless Yawning keep;
While o'er his Eyes the drowsy Liquor ran,
Through which his half-wak'd Soul would faintly peep.
Then taking his black Staff he call'd his Man,
And rous'd himself as much as rouse himself he can.

XXV.

The Lad leap'd lightly at his Master's Call.

He was, to weet, a little roguish Page,
Save Sleep and Play who minded nought at all,
Like most the untaught Striplings of his Age.
This Boy he kept each Band to disengage,
Garters and Buckles, Task for him unfit,
But ill-becoming his grave Personage,
And which his portly Paunch would not permit.
So this same limber Page to All performed It.

XXVI.