33. The Dream.
1
Last night my senses being lockt,
Fond Brize came and boldly knockt
Against my fancy gate:
And in her wanton arms she brought
(As with a strong desire I thought)
The Empress of my fate.
2
Who blushing stood before my face
(As twere expecting my embrace)
Her bosom being nak't:
Then Panick fear, and pleasant hope
At once into my spirits crope,
And mov'd me till I quak't?
3
I mov'd this query in my breast;
Is't Rose in earnest or in jest?
The Jury prov'd it she.
Then I with furious faith begun
Towards this glorious prize to run;
But reason bridled me.
4
Stay, stay, (she said) there is no reason
Thou shouldst fall on, for it is treason;
Therefore bold youth return:
But love, which reason doth exceed,
Nay stronger then my self indeed,
So furiously did burn
5
Within the chimney of my breast,
That I was quite berest of rest,
Till in my arms I felt her;
Then with a vigorous haste I rusht
Upon the girl (who wept and blusht)
Thinking t' have purchast shelter.
6
But when I came into the station
(With equity pray poize my passion)
Where she appear'd to me,
I found a stock which neither mov'd
Its bulk, nor breath'd; alas it prov'd
Her shape, it was not she,
