SONG.

SAy lovely dream, where couldst thou find
Shadows to counterseit that face?
Colours of this …lorious kind,
Come not from any mortal place.

… Heaven it self thou sure wer't drest
With that Angel-like disguise;
Thus deluded am I blest,
And see my joy with closed Eyes.

But ah this Image is too kind
To be other than a dream!
Cruel Sacharissa's Mind
Never put on that sweet extreme.

Fair dream, if thou intend'st me grace,
Change that Heavenly face of thine;
Paint despis'd Love in thy face,
And make it to appear like mine.

Pale, Wan, and Meager let it look,
With a pity-moving shape,
Such as wander by the Brook
Of Lethe, or from graves escape.

Then to that matchless Nymph appear,
In whose shape thou shinest so,
Softly in her sleeping ear,
With humble words express my wo.

Perhaps from Greatness, State, and Pride,
Thus surprised she may fall:
Sleep does disproportion hide,
And death resembling equals all.