Chapter 388 of 1964 · 63 words · ~1 min read

CLII.

And Juan gazed as one who is awoke By a distant organ, doubting if he be Not yet a dreamer, till the spell is broke By the watchman, or some such reality, Or by one's early valet's curséd knock; At least it is a heavy sound to me, Who like a morning slumber--for the night Shows stars and women in a better light.