Night and her ugly subjects dost thou fright,
And sleep, the lazy owl of night;
Ashamed and fearful to appear, 35
They screen their horrid shapes with the black hemisphere.
With them there hastes, and wildly takes the alarm,
Of painted dreams a busy swarm;
At the first opening of thine eye
The various clusters break, the antic atoms fly. 40
When, Goddess, thou lift’st up thy wakened head
Out of the Morning’s purple bed,