De Lupo

When Lupus has wrought hard all day,
And the declining Sun,
By stooping to embrace the Sea,
Tells him the Day's nigh done;
Then to his young Wife home he hies
With his sore labour sped,
Who bids him welcome home, and cries,
Pray, Husband, come to bed.
Thanks, Wife, quoth he, but I were blest,
Would'st thou once call me to my rest.