XXVI.
Great Store of Caps, of Slippers, and of Gowns;
Wherewith he Those who enter'd in, array'd;
Loose, as the Breeze that plays along the Downs,
And waves the Summer-Woods when Evening frowns.
O fair Undress, best Dress! it checks no Vein,
But every flowing Limb in Pleasure drowns.
And heightens Ease with Grace. This done, right fain,
Sir Porter sat him down, and turn'd to Sleep again.
XXVII.
That in the Middle of the Court up-threw
A Stream, high-spouting from its liquid Bed,
And falling back again in drizzly Dew:
There Each deep Draughts, as deep he thirsted, drew.
It was a Fountain of Nepenthe rare:
Whence, as Dan Homer sings, huge Pleasaunce grew,
And sweet Oblivion of vile earthly Care;
Fair gladsome waking Thoughts, & joyous Dreams more fair.
XXVIII.
