Seal up her eyes, O Sleep, but flow 
Mild as her manners to and fro ; 
Slide softly into her that she 
May receive no wound from thee. 
And ye, present her thoughts, O Dreams, 
With hushing winds and purling streams,
Whilst hovering Silence sits without
Careful to keep disturbance out. 
Thus seize her, Sleep, thus her again resign,
So what was Heaven's gift we'll reckon thine.