The heavens in balmy breezes breathed deep,
My senses all were lull'd in grateful, joyous sleep.
II.
Sleep had its visions-fancy all unsway'd
Revelled in fulness of creative power:
I ween'd that round me countless beings stray'd,
Things of delight, illusions of an hour;
So great the number of these things divine,
Scarce could my heart believe that all the imps were mine.