 | Clarastella |  |
Amoris Somnium. To Clarastella.
Love is a waking dream, where both the mind
And all the senses drownd in sleep we find:
Only the Phansie worketh, that doth range
And to a thousand strange Idæas change.
For as in dreams we often turn, and sigh,
And groan, as if we were about to die,
Sometimes we startle as we were afraid,
Then breath distracted words, and cry for aid:
So in a trance true Lovers restles are,
Fraught with disorder'd thoughts, and ful of care,
So speechles too, when they with grief opprest
Speak somewhat, and in sighs do vent the rest.
And all the senses drownd in sleep we find:
Only the Phansie worketh, that doth range
And to a thousand strange Idæas change.
For as in dreams we often turn, and sigh,
And groan, as if we were about to die,
Sometimes we startle as we were afraid,
Then breath distracted words, and cry for aid:
So in a trance true Lovers restles are,
Fraught with disorder'd thoughts, and ful of care,
So speechles too, when they with grief opprest
Speak somewhat, and in sighs do vent the rest.
Stella! when thus you see me, wake me pray;
You know what ayles me, though I nothing say.
You know what ayles me, though I nothing say.
| Clarastella | |