It is equally flat, but more articulate. I need not detain my reader with
remarks upon him. The fact is, I am glad to have something, if not "a
cart-load of wholesome instructions," to cast into this Slough of
Despond, should it be only to see it vanish. The poem is called


GASCOIGNE'S GOOD MORROW.

You that have spent the silent night
In sleep and quiet rest,
And joy to see the cheerful light
That riseth in the east;
Now clear your voice, now cheer your heart;
Come help me now to sing;
Each willing wight come bear a part,
To praise the heavenly King.

And you whom care in prison keeps,
Or sickness doth suppress,
Or secret sorrow breaks your sleeps,
Or dolours do distress;
Yet bear a part in doleful wise;
Yea, think it good accord,
And acceptable sacrifice,
Each sprite to praise the Lord.

The dreadful night with darksomeness
Had overspread the light,
And sluggish sleep with drowsiness
Had overpressed our might: