ON A COPY OF VERSES MADE IN A DREAM AND SENT TO ME IN A MORNING BEFORE I WAS AWOKE

by: Aphra Behn (1640-1689)

myntas, if your wit in dreams

Can furnish you with themes,

What must it do when your soul looks abroad,

Quick'nd with agitations of the sense,

And dispossessed of sleeps dull heavy load,

When ev'ry syllable has eloquence?

And if by chance such wounds you make,

And in your sleep such welcome mischiefs do;

What are your powers when you're awake,

Directed by design and reason too?




I slept, as duller mortals use,

Without the music of a thought,

When by a gentle breath, soft as thy Muse,

Thy name to my glad ear was brought:

Amyntas! cried the page -- and at the sound,

My list'ning soul unusual pleasure found.

So the harmonious Spheres surprise,

Whilst the all-ravished shepherd gazes round,

And wonders whence the charms should rise,

That can at once both please and wound.

Whilst trembling I unripped the seal

Of what you'd sent,

My heart with an impatient zeal,

Without my eyes, would needs reveal

Its bus'ness and intent.




But so beyond the sense they were

Of ev'ry scribbling lovers common art,

That now I find an equal share

Of love and admiration in my heart.

And while I read, in vain I strove

To hide the pleasure which I took;

Bellario saw in ev'ry look

My smiling joy and blushing love.

Soft ev'ry word, easy each line, and true;

Brisk, witty, manly, strong and gay;

The thoughts are tender all, and new,

And fancy ev'rywhere does gentle play,

Amyntas, if you thus go on,

Like an unwearied conqueror day and night,

The world at last must be undone.

You do not only kill at sight,

But like a Parthian in your flight,

Whether you rally or retreat,

You still have arrows for defeat.

 

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