Should quiet sleep my senses keep,
And Fancy leap the pathless steep,
Where, whirl the streams of airy dreams,
With glittering gleams of heavenly beams,—
Oh! may I in fit frame be found,
To dream of “Angels hovering round,”
And “leave the world without a tear,
Save for the friends I hold so dear.”
Or should fierce pains forbid to sleep,
May I amid the anguish deep,