Or Scorne, or pittie on me take, I must the true Relation make, I am undone to Night; Love in a subtile Dreame disguis'd, Hath both my heart and me surpriz'd, Whom never yet he durst attempt t' awake; Nor will he tell me for whose sake He did me the Delight, Or Spight, But leaves me to inquire, In all my wild desire Of sleepe againe; who was his Aid, And sleepe so guiltie and afraid, As since he dares not come within my sight.