human
Falsely luxurious will not man awake, And, springing from the bed of sloth, enjoy The cool, the fragrant, and the silent hour, To meditation due and sacred song? For is there aught in sleep can charm the wise? To lie in dead oblivion, losing half The fleeting moments of too short a life, Total extinction of th' enlighten'd soul! Or else, to feverish vanity alive, Wilder'd and tossing through distemper'd dreams? Who would in such a gloomy state remain Longer than nature craves, when every Muse And every blooming pleasure wait without, To bless the wildly devious morning walk?
gpt
for this fine poetry is associated, in most reader's minds, with Thomson's own odd indulgence in the
human
He was a late riser, sleeping often till noon; and when once reproached for his sluggishness, observed, that
gpt
As if, according to the popular version of the story,
human
I am convinced, in theory, of the advantage of early rising. Who knows it not, but what can Cato do?
gpt
Ay, he's a good divine, you say, who follows his own teaching; don't talk to us of early rising after this.
human
In that gloomy state remain Longer than nature craves,
gpt
to sleep till noon every day of your life. You have only to apply to me for it through