And stretched metre of an antique song.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): Sonnet xvii.

Stretch'd on the rack of a too easy chair,

And heard thy everlasting yawn confess

The pains and penalties of idleness.

Alexander Pope (1688-1744): The Dunciad. Book iv. Line 342.

So the struck eagle, stretch'd upon the plain,

No more through rolling clouds to soar again,

View'd his own feather on the fatal dart,

And wing'd the shaft that quiver'd in his heart.

Lord Byron 1788-1824: English Bards and Scotch Reviewers. Line 826.