O come to me in dreams, my love, I will not ask a dearer bliss,

Come with the starry beams, my love, And press mine eyelids with thy kiss.

T 'was thus, as ancient fables tell, Love visited a Grecian maid,

Till she disturbed the sacred spell, And woke to find her hopes betrayed.

But gentle sleep shall veil my sight, And Syke's lamp shall darkling be,

When, in the visions of the night, Thou dost renew thy vows to me.

Then come to me in dreams, my love, I will not ask a dearer bliss,

Come with the starry beams, my love, And press mine eyelids with thy kiss.