The Lament of the Late Riser

'Tis dark. It seems
As if 't were early morning.
Half thoughts, half dreams,
Into my mind are swarming.
Upon my ear
A deep-toned knell is falling.
I wake, and hear
The bell to chapel calling.

I rise and dress,
For haste its sounds betoken.
My shoe, I ---- bless,
For now the string is broken.
I'm late. A cut
Is added to my sorrow.
The chapel's shut!
I'll rise at six to-morrow.