His mill, but little there he wrought.

Week follow’d week, and months the same,

Whang slept indeed, but could not dream;

Yet, prescient still of his success,

His industry grew less and less.

He thought it wrong in him to labour,

Who, by and by, might, like his neighbour,

Receive the happy wish’d-for warning,

And wake to thousands in the morning!

It was amusing to observe