'With rotten damps ravish the morning air; (779)
Let their exhaled unwholesome breaths make sick (780)
The life of purity, the supreme fair, (781)
Ere he arrive his weary noon-tide prick; (782)
And let thy misty vapours march so thick,
That in their smoky ranks his smother'd light (784)
May set at noon and make perpetual night.