Xl

Whose double gates° he findeth locked fast, The one faire fram'd of burnisht Yvory, The other all with silver overcast; And wakeful dogges before them farre do lye, Watching to banish Care their enimy, Who oft is wont to trouble gentle Sleepe. By them the Sprite doth passe in quietly, And unto Morpheus comes, whom drowned deepe In drowsie fit he findes: of nothing he takes keepe.