Laura Sleeping

Winds whisper gently whilst she sleeps,
And fan her with your cooling wings;
Whilst she her drops of Beauty weeps,
From pure, and yet unrivall'd Springs.

Glide over Beauties Field her Face,
To kiss her Lip, and Cheek be bold,
But with a calm, and stealing pace;
Neither too rude; nor yet too cold.

Play in her beams, and crisp her Hair,
With such a gale, as wings soft Love
And with so sweet, so rich an Air,
As breaths from the Arabian Grove.

A Breath as hush't as Lovers sigh;
Or that unfolds the Morning door:
Sweet, as the Winds, that gently fly,
To sweep the Springs enamell'd Floor.

Murmur soft Musick to her Dreams,
That pure, and unpoluted run,
Like to the new-born Christal Streams,
Under the bright enamour'd Sun.

But when she waking shall display
Her light retire within your bar,
Her Breath is life, her Eyes are day,
And all Mankind her Creatures are.