If chance, when Reason shall regain her sway,
Some boon companion should enquire thy fate,
Haply some near-observing friend may say,
“When all was o’er, we saw him scour along,
Splashing through every puddle in his way,
In hopes to gain his home e’er morning sprung.
“There in yon stream, that slowly wanders down
The silent vale, remote from care and strife,
His listless length at midnight hour was thrown,
And ’scap’d, by chance, with scarce a sign of life.