To boast next day the honours of the night;
}
None like your Coward can describe a fight.
See him, as down the sparkling potion goes,
Labor to grin away the horrid dose;
In joy-feign'd gaze his misty eye-balls float,
Th' uncivil Spirit gurgling at his throat;
110
So looks dim Titan through a wintry scene,
And faintly cheers the woe-foreboding swain;