When dreary NIGHT, with MORPHEUS in her train,
Led on by SILENCE to resume her reign,
With Darkness covering, as with a robe,
This scene of Levity, blank'd half the globe,
How oft', enchanted with your heav'nly strains,
Which stole me from myself, which in soft chains
Of Musick bound my soul, how oft' have I,
Sounds more than human floating thro' the Sky,
Attentive sat, whilst NIGHT, against her Will.
Transported with the harmony, stood still!
How oft' in raptures, which Man scarce could bear,
Have I, when gone, still thought the Muses there,
Still heard their Music, and, as mute as death,
Sat all attention, drew in ev'ry Breath,
Lest, breathing all too rudely, I should wound,
And marr that magic excellence of sound:
Then, Sense returning with return of Day,
Have chid the Night, which fled so fast away.