Oh thy frumptious slug in a sleeping state…
Awake, awake! for it is getting late!
The summer’s dying out, she gleams no more;
And all you do is lay there, drool and snore.
Awaken! Or I shall be sorely teased-
To wake you any evil way I please:
Cold water, music, or an ancient horn
Saved just for waking men on Thursday morn.
Pray wake, oh dearest sloth-man of my heart…
Or I shall sit upon your lazy head, and fart.