Sleep puts sin by, as the grave life's despair; br And though bad dreams in sleep may come, the soul br Is tainted not with error, being then br Beyond the body's shade, as in a sphere br Like that to which death may remove us when br The flesh itself is past pollution too. br It is the waking thought that we must answer, br When the whole man is up, and the will has play; br Not any drowsy essence that contrives br As with an ultramundane faculty br To act within us when the reason's gone, br And that, our temporal government, laid aside, br Our kingdom is left open, as it were, br Without a deputy, to all the worlds, br Whose mystic coursers may by stealth enact br Their wills upon us.