In some kind dream

In some kind dream upon her slumbers steal,

And to Lucinda all, I beg, reveal:

Breathe gentlest words into her ears,

Words full of love, but full of fears,

Such words as may prevail like pray'rs

From a poor dying martyr's tongue,

By that sweet voice of pity sung.

Touch with the voice the more enchanting lute,

To make the charms strike all repulses mute;

These may insensibly impart

My tender wishes to her heart,

And by a sympathetic force

So tune its strings to love's discourse,

That, when my griefs compel a groan,

Her sighs may echo to my moan.