Classic Poem

Kind Sleep the fair Idea brought,
 To bless my longing Sight;
But cruel Dream, as swift as Thought
 It vanish'd with the Night.

II.

Tho' charming was each single Grace,
 The Visage mild and clear,
Yet was the lovely winning Face
 To none but me severe.

III.

Forbear bright Nymph, I then complain'd,
 To arm your murdering Eyes!
Not torture with unjust Disdain
 A willing Sacrifice.

IV.

Reserve these wonder-working Darts,
 For such as slight your Chain,
But spare those loyal Subjects Hearts,
 Which own your lawful Reign.