Last night worn with anguish that tortur'd my breast,
When my senses benumb'd I at length sank to rest;
The passion that waking has ruled o'er my mind
Still woke in my dreams where it rov'd unconfin'd.

Methought that my fair one, o'ercome by my pain,
Assented at length to reward her fond swain;
And soon at the altar she stood by my side,
To the priest I already "I will" had replied.

Her reply I awaited with transport of soul,
When, death to my hopes! did the matin bell toll,
I started, awoke, and with horror I found,
'Twas a dream that maliciously fled at the sound.

O Vision that thus hast beguiled my poor heart!
Fly to her and shew all the truth without art;
Present me the victim of love and despair,
And incline to compassion the obdurate fair.