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NI G H T the FIRST.
XA IR'D Nature's sweet Restorer, balmy Sleep!
He, like the World, his ready Visit pays
Where Fortune smiles; the Wretched he for
Swift on his downy Pinion -flies from Woc, And lights on Lids unsully'd with a Tear.
From short (as usual) and disturb'd Repose, I wake: How happy they, who wake no more ! Yet that were vain, if Dreams infeft the Grave. I wake, emerging from a Sea of Dreams Tumultuous; where my wreck'd, desponding Thoughg From Wave to Wave of fansy'd Misery, At random drove, her Helm of Reason loft. Tho' now restor'd, 'tis only Change of Pain, (A bitter Change!) feverer for severe, The Day too short for my Distress! and Night, Even in the Zenith of her dark Domain, Is Sunshine, to the Colour of my Fate.
Night, fable Goddess! from her Ebon Throne,
Silence, and Darkness! folemn Sisters I Twins
Thro' this Opaque of Nature, and of Soul,
let the Phial of thy Vengeance, pour'd On this devoted Head, be pour'd in vain.