This savoured of this world; but his hand shook:
He shut his door, and after having read
A paragraph, I think about Horne Tooke,
Undressed, and rather slowly went to bed.
There, couched all snugly on his pillow’s nook,
With what he had seen his fantasy he fed;
And though it was no opiate, slumber crept
Upon him by degrees, and so he slept.