 | Philosophicall fancies |  |
AN EPISTLE To a troubled FANCY.
Fancies in sleep are Visions, Dreames we call,Rais'd in the Braine to sport themselves withall.
Sometimes they take delight to fright the Minde,
Taking strange Shapes, not like to Natures kinde.
After the Soule they hunt, and run about,
As from the Body they would thrust it out.
But if they are in humour kind, and good,
In pleasing Shapes before the Minde they stood.
| Philosophicall fancies | |