SONG XX.
The Dream.
I
As sleeping, late, in Bed I lay,
My restless Cares to sooth,
Methought I heard a Female say—
Why dost thou trifle Time away
In vain, succesless Love?
Grieve not at Cælia's proud Disdain,
I'll soon thy Peace restore;
I hither came to end her Reign,
And thou shalt mourn no more.
II
I look't, and there did by me stand
A Form all Heav'nly gay!
Ah! Fair, I cry'd, and seiz'd her Hand,
What you, and such as you command,
No Man can disobey.
Dear Youth, said she, such Love as thine
Deserves a kinder Fate;
You shou'd not, were your Heart but mine,
Be us'd at such a Rate.
III
With that I strain'd her to my Breast,
And she as closely clung:
Her Lips, her Flame within confest,
Her speaking Eyes declar'd the rest,
And bid me not be long.
But in the Mid'st of this Delight,
Wound up a Pitch too high,
Like Air she vanish'd from my Sight,
Just sinking to comply.
IV
I wak'd, but wak'd to Misery,
Perplext to an Extreme—
But the next Nymph my Eyes did see
Was Thee, my Silvia! very Thee!
The same I saw in Dream!
Ah! then delay me not with doubt,
Nor vainly cruel prove;
When 'twas thy very Soul stole out
To tell me that you love.
