Chapter 11 of 17 · 53 words · ~1 min read

XI.

No fatal owl the bedstead keeps, With direful notes to fright your sleeps; No furies here about To put the tapers out, Watch or did make the bed: 'Tis omen full of dread; But all fair signs appear Within the chamber here. Juno here far off doth stand, Cooling sleep with charming wand.