When I dream that you love me, You'll surely forgive;
Extend not your anger to sleep;
For in visions alone your affection can live-
I rise, and it leaves me to weep
Then Morpheus! envelope my faculties fast.
Shed o'er me your languor benign;
Should the dream of tonight but resemble the last,
what rapture celestial is mine!
They tell us that slumber, the sister of death,
Mortality's emblem is given;
To fate how I long to resign my frail breath
If this be the foretaste of Heaven!
Ah! frown not, sweet lady, unbend your soft brow,
Nor deem me to happy in this;
If I sin in my dream, I atone for it now
Thus doomed but to gaze upon bliss.
Though in visions, sweet lady, perhaps you may smile,
Oh! think not my penance deficient!
When dreams of your presence my slumbers beguile,
To awake would be torture sufficient