Page:Ovid's Metamorphoses (Vol. 2) - tr Garth, Dryden, et. al. (1727).djvu/151

Book 11. The Virgin ent'ring bright, indulg'd the Day, To the brown Cave, and brush'd the Dreams away: The God disturb'd with this new Glare of Light, Cast sudden on his Face, unseal'd his Sight, And rais'd his tardy Head, which sunk again, And sinking, on his Bosom knock'd his Chin; At length shook off himself, and ask'd the Dame, (And asking yawn'd) for what Intent she came. To whom the Goddess thus: O sacred Rest, Sweet pleasing Sleep, of all the Pow'rs the best! O Peace of Mind, Repairer of Decay, Whose Balms renew the Limbs to Labours of the Day, Care shuns thy soft Approach, and sullen flies away! Adorn a Dream, expressing human Form, The Shape of him, who suffer'd in the Storm, And send it flitting to the Trachin Court, The Wreck of wretched Ceyx to report: Before his Queen bid the pale Spectre stand, Who begs a vain Relief at Juno's Hand. She said, and scarce awake her Eyes could keep, Unable to support the Fumes of Sleep; But fled, returning by the way she went, And swerv'd along her Bow with swift Ascent. The God, uneasy till he slept again, Resolv'd at once to rid himself of Pain; And, tho' against his Custom, call'd aloud, Exciting Morpheus from the sleepy Crowd: Morpheus, of all his numerous Train, express'd The Shape of Man, and imitated best: The Walk, the Words, the Gesture could supply, The Habit mimick, and the Mein bely; Plays well, but all his Action is confin'd, Extending not beyond our human Kind. Another, Birds, and Beasts, and Dragons apes, And dreadful Images, and Monster Shapes: Rh