Sloth lay till mid-day, turning on his couch
Like ponderous door upon its weary hinge,
And having rolled him out with much ado,
And many a dismal sigh, and vain attempt,
He sauntered out, accoutred carelessly,—
With half-oped, misty, unobservant eye,
Somniferous, that weighed the object down
On which its burden hung,—an hour or two,
Then with a groan retired to rest again.
The one, whatever deed had been achieved,