Just as their leaden eyelids ’gan to close,
And their tired limbs were sinking to repose,
Would bid them forth, and task them to renew
The past day’s work, or merely to undo.
XLIV.
Yet amid all still kept his constant mind,
Not to be wearied out by toil or pain,
Or all which malice could of outrage find,
The steadfast Prince; on him were spent in vain