I ent'red Morpheus' Court, that iv'ry port
Whereat benighted fancies pass that sort
With real good, Sleep was the janitor
Who let me in, without one crumb of ore,
Into the spacious hall, whose darksome floor
10With downy beds and quilts was pavèd o'er,
Instead of marble stones. Here nuzzled both
The hated spawn of idleness and sloth,
Icilone and Phantaso, the one
Wrapt in a mantle, set with stars and stones,