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XXIII

[Awake, my Eyes, at Night my Thought[s] pursue]

Awake, my Eyes, at Night my Thought[s] pursue
You charming Shape; and find it ever new;
If I my weary Eyes to Sleep resign,
In gaudy Dreams your Love and Beauty shine;
Dreams with such Extasies and Pleasures fill'd,
As to those Joys they seem can only yield;
Nor do they yield perhaps, wou'd you allow,
Fair Amidea, that I once might know.