Old and new:
A list he gets
Of claims and debts,
And deems nought done, while aught remains to do.
Yamen beheld, and withered at the sight;
Long had he aimed the sunbeam to control,
For light was hateful to his soul:
“Go on!” cries the hellish one, yellow with spite;
“Go on!” cried the hellish one, yellow with spleen,
“Thy toils of the morning, like Ithaca’s queen