To Flint, from thence, unto a restless bed

To Flint, from thence, unto a restless bed, That miserable night he comes convey'd; Poorly provided, poorly followed, Uncourted, unrespected, unobey'd; Where, if uncertain Sleep but hovered Over the drooping cares that heavy weigh'd,

Millions of figures Fantasy presents Unto that sorrow wakened grief augments.

His new misfortune makes deluded Sleep Say 'twas not so:—false dreams the truth deny: Wherewith he starts; feels waking cares do creep Upon his soul, and gives his dream the lie, Then sleeps again:—and then again as deep Deceits of darkness mock his misery. Civil War, Book II. st. 52, 53.