To a Lady Sleeping

STILL Sleep stil fold those lovely Arms
Stil be free from noise and harms
Whilst all the Gods of Love defend Thee
(The Gods of Love which stil attend thee)
Whilst around in humble state
A Thousand wanton Angels wait
Whilst Gods officiously find
Pleasing Dreams to charm thy mind,
Dreams of things (if such there are)
Like yourself Serene and fair,
And when You open those bright Eyes
When Morpheus with the wel-cloath'd Vision flyes
May You that happyness renew
And all the pleasures of your Dream prove true.