On stolchy paths
Over glunch clouds,
Where infrequent shepherds,
Sloomy of face,
Snudge of spirit,
Snoachy of speech,
With scaddle dogs
Tend a few scrawny
Cag-mag sheep.
Fetched into conscience
By a hoasting fit,
He lies darkling,
Senex morosus,
Too ebb of verve
Even to monster
Social trifles,

 “Grumpy old man”. 
 The use of Latin, perhaps a caricature of scientific/taxonomic Latin (cf.  Homo sapiens ), marks the protagonist of the poem’s emergence back into the bookish world of high culture. As he goes from action to passivity (ironic, since he is active in sleep, passive in life), he moves away from the earthy tongue of the agricultural peasantry and takes up the patrician parlance of the aristocracy—if we see the language in terms of the Mediaeval landscape that it conjures.
A Bad Night