A pamper’d carcase on the worms bestows,
Who, rioting on the unusual chear,
As good a life enjoy, as he could boast of here.
42. A Nocturnal Reverie
In such a night, when every louder wind
Is to its distant cavern safe confin’d;
And only gentle Zephyr fans his wings,
And lonely Philomel, still waking, sings;
Or from some tree, fam’d for the owl’s delight,
She, hollowing clear, directs the wand’rers right: