That dwelleth in a cave of stoon
Upon a streem that comth fro Lete,
That is a flood of helle unswete;
Besyde a folk [men clepe Cimerie],
Ther slepeth ay this god unmerie
75
With [his slepy thousand sones]
[That] alway for to slepe hir wone is—
And to this god, that I of rede,
Preye I, that he wol me spede