On - - - - Asleep.
By Samuel Rogers
Sleep on, and dream of Heav'n awhile.
Tho' shut so close thy laughing eyes,
Thy rosy lips still seem to smile,
And move, and breathe delicious sighs!--
Ah, now soft blushes tinge her cheeks,
And mantle o'er her neck of snow.
Ah, now she murmurs, now she speaks
What most I wish--and fear to know.
She starts, she trembles, and she weeps!
Her fair hands folded on her breast.
--And now, how like a saint she sleeps!
A seraph in the realms of rest!
Sleep on secure! Above controul,
Thy thoughts belong to Heav'n and thee!
And may the secret of thy soul
Repose within its sanctuary!