Hypnos, thou art a bitter wench.

Thee maketh a barb of mine own soft tongue

Sharpen mine wit to a piercing point

Injecteth scorn into mine mumble-spat replies,

Thee beareth me nemeses of sympathetic travelers.

Hypnos, tempting serpent.

Thee wouldst seeth

Thy mother Nyx hath Apollo

The noble light, slumber in eternal stupefy.