That you do bend your eye on vacancy⏎ And with th' incorporal air do hold discourse?⏎ Forth at your eyes your spirits wildly peep,⏎ And, as the sleeping soldiers in th' alarm,⏎ Your bedded hair, like life in excrements,⏎ Starts up and stands on end. O gentle son,⏎ Upon the heat and flame of thy distemper⏎ Sprinkle cool patience. Whereon do you look?🏁

That you do bend your eye on vacancy⏎ And with th' incorporal air do hold discourse?⏎ Forth at your eyes your spirits wildly peep,⏎ And, as the sleeping soldiers in th' alarm,⏎ Your bedded hair, like life in excrements,⏎ Starts up and stands on end. O gentle son,⏎ Upon the heat and flame of thy distemper⏎ Sprinkle cool patience. Whereon do you look?🏁