Lady your art or wit could nere devise br To shame me more then in this nights surprise. br Why I am quite unready, and my eye br Now winking like my candle, doth deny br To guide my hand, if it had ought to write; br Nor can I make my drowsie sense indite br Which by your verses musick (as a spell br Sent from the Sybellean Oracle) br Is charm'd and bound in wonder and delight, br Faster then all the leaden chains of night. br What pity is it then you should so ill br Employ the bounty of your flowing quill, br As to expend on him your bedward thought, br Who can acknowledge that large love in nought br But this lean wish; that fate soon send you those br Who may requite your rhimes with midnight prose? br Mean time, may all delights and pleasing Theams br Like Masquers revell in your Maiden dreams, br Whil'st dull to write, and to do more unmeet, br I, as the night invites me, fall asleep.