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The Dream.

XLIII.

As I late in slumber lay
Wing'd me thought I ran away,
But Love (his feet clogg'd with Lead)
As thus up and down I fled
Following caught me instantly:
What may this strange dream imply?
What but this? that in my heart
Though a thousand Loves had part,
I shall now (their snares declin'd)
To this onely be confin'd.