And the taper burnt with as still a flame,
As to flicker had been a burning shame,
In a calm so universal.
CLXXVII.
The time for sleep had come at last;
And there was the bed, so soft, so vast,
Quite a field of Bedfordshire clover;
Softer, cooler, and calmer, no doubt,
From the piece of work just ravell'd out,
For one of the pleasures of having a rout