"How different these," my calm companion said,
"From the crowd yonder! These yearn not for bed
As rest from leaden labour.
The night may be far spent, the Sabbath dawns,
But here no dull brain-palsied drowser yawns
At his half-nodding neighbour.
"With wit, and wealth, and wine, the hours of night
In sombre Babylon may dispense delight.
These revellers, slumber-scorning,
Radiant and well-arrayed, will stop, and stop,