The Dream

I

That I might ever dream thus! that some power
To my eternal sleep would join this hour!
So, willingly deceiv'd, I might possess
In seeming joys a real happiness.
Haste not away: oh do not dissipate
A pleasure thou so lately didst create!
Stay, welcome Sleep; be ever here confin'd;
Or if thou wilt away, leave her behind.

II

Death, I would gladly bow beneath thy charms,
If thou couldst bring my Doris to my arms,
That thus at last made happy I might prove
In life the hell, in death the heaven of love.
Haste not away so soon, mock not my joy,
With the delusive sight or empty noise
Of happiness; oh do not dissipate
A pleasure thou so lately didst create!
Shadows of life or death do such bliss give,
That 'tis an equal curse to wake or live.
Stay then, kind Sleep; be ever here confin'd;
Or if thou wilt away, leave her behind.