As vices grew encreasing more and more,
So vertues fled and bade their friends adieu:
Deseases bad likewise, and sicknesse sore
Began to wexe, and griefes about mee grew.
I may fullwell my naughty surfets rue,
Which pesterd so at length my drousy brayne,
I could not scarse from sleeping ought refrayne.
8.
A sleepie sickenesse, nam’d the Lethargye,
Opprest me sore, and feauers fearce withall: