THE DREAM

Or scorn, or pity on me take,
I must the true relation make,
I am undone to-night:
Love in a subtil dream disguised,
hath both my heart and me surprised,
Whom never yet he durst attempt t’ awake;
Nor will he tell me for whose sake
He did me the delight,
Or spite;
But leaves me to inquire,
In all my wild desire,
Of Sleep again, who was his aid,
And Sleep, so guilty and afraid,
As since he dares not come within my sight.

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