She slumbers.- O blessed sleep, rain from thy wings
Thy life-giving balm on her delicate frame;
And send Thou from Eden's ambrosial springs
A few flashing drops of their crystallous flame,-

Then spread them, soft painter, upon her white cheek
Where sickness hath eaten the roses away;
Love's gentle refresher, Care's comforter meek,
Thou moon of sweet blessings, pour down the kind ray

To smile on my Cidli: she sleeps,- O be still,
Hush'd be thy soft-flowing notes, O my lyre,
Thy laurels mine anger shall scathe and shall kill,
If thou waken with murmurs my sleeping desire.