I’ll paint the scene the best I can,
’Twas thus the strange illusion ran:
A DREAM OF EREBUS.
Night’s shadows closed round me, I lay on my bed,
And visions of beauty encompassed my head;
The sweetest of melodies floated around,
The Muses and Graces kept time to the sound:
The scene was enchanting; but brief was its stay,
In mists and in clouds it soon melted away:
Then darkness succeeded, the horrors of death!