Near the couch of Delight lurks the dæmon Ennui.
Let the Muses gay lyre, like Ithuriel’s bright spear,
Keep this fiend, ye sweet brides, from approaching your ear;
Since you know the squat toad’s infernal esprit,
Never listen, like Eve, to the devil Ennui.
Let no gloom of your hall, no shade of your bower,
Make you think you behold this malevolent power:
Like a child in the dark, what you fear you will see;
Take courage, away flies the phantom Ennui.
O trust me, the powers both of person and mind,