Classic Poem

So good the sense, so noble is the theme,
My friend, they wou'd become a prophet's dream.
Here's so much reason and religion taught,
By just degrees link'd in one chain of thought;
In thy pure mind such heavenly notions shine,
When bound with heavy sleep thy body lies supine:
Thro' the thick veil truth darts her piercing beams,
And leaden slumbers yield thee golden dreams.
So fair their form, and of so good allay,
They well can bear the strictest test of day.

Those truths thy active soul by day explores,
Fancy, to charm thee, in the night restores:
And to reward the labours of the day,
Thy guardian angel marks the glorious way
That leads to bliss; and entertains thy mind
With pleasures only known to souls refin'd.
The pilgrim patriarch thus at Bethel lay,
When wearied by the journey of the day;
While in his view officious angels tread
The steps that to celestial mansions led.

How few, awake, have thoughts so just and bright,
As thou, asleep, amidst the shades of night?
But since thy dreams of so much truth partake,
What clear ideas fill thy mind awake!
Then write again; nor quit the useful text:
Tell us thy waking thoughts of virtue next.