Page:Boileau's Lutrin - a mock-heroic poem. In six canto's. Render'd into English verse. To which is prefix'd some account of Boileau's writings, and this translation. (IA boileauslutrinmo00boil).pdf/97

 Tho' from the distant Street the piercing Sound Shou'd wake the Snoring Footmen, stretch'd around, And penetrate without the least Regard That sacred Calm, where Noise is never heard, Can you Conceive, my Lord, when peaceful Shades Have bound 'em fast co their Inchanting Beds, We shou'd the Sluggard's Iron-slumbers break, Whom Six Bells thirty Years cou'd never Wake? Can two weak Chanters Voices e'er perform What is a Work for Thunder or a Storm?

The Warm Old Man Replies, I see what Ends You Wish, and whither this Oration tends. I see, your Dastard Souls the Prelate dread; Yes, of the haughty Prelate You're afraid; Ye Servile Wretches; I have seen you stand Bending your Necks beneath his Blessing Hand. Go,