Next morn I heard their impious voices sing;
All up the stairs their blasphemies did ring:
"Come forth, O Williams, wherefore thus supine
Remain within thy chambers after nine?
Come forth, suffer thyself to be admired,
And blush not so, coy dean, to be desired."
The captive churchman chafes with empty rage,
Till some knight-errant free him from his cage.
Pale fear and anger sit upon yon face
Erst full of love and piety and grace,
But not pale fear nor anger will undo
The iron might of gimlet and of screw.
Grin at the window, Williams, all is vain;
The carpenter will come and let thee out again.
Contrast with him the countenance serene
And sweet remonstrance of the junior dean;
The plural number and the accents mild,
The language of a parent to a child.
With plaintive voice the worthy man doth state,
We've not been very regular of late.
It should more carefully its chapels keep,
And not make noises to disturb our sleep
By having suppers and at early hours
Raising its lungs unto their utmost powers.
We'll put it, if it makes a noise again,
On gatesey patsems at the hour of ten;
And leafy peafy it will turn I'm sure,
And never vex its own dear Sharpey more.

II