Twas Night, And Many A Circling Bowl Had Deeply Warmed My Thirsty Soul; As Lulled In Slumber I Was Laid, Bright Visions O'Er My Fancy Played. With Maidens, Blooming As The Dawn, I Seemed To Skim The Opening Lawn; Light, On Tiptoe Bathed In Dew, We Flew, And Sported As We Flew! Some Ruddy Striplings, Who Lookt On-- With Cheeks That Like The Wine-God'S Shone, Saw Me Chasing, Free And Wild, These Blooming Maids, And Slyly Smiled; Smiled Indeed With Wanton Glee, Though None Could Doubt They Envied Me. And Still I Flew--And Now Had Caught The Panting Nymphs, And Fondly Thought To Gather From Each Rosy Lip A Kiss That Jove Himself Might Sip-- When Sudden All My Dream Of Joys, Blushing Nymphs And Laughing Boys, All Were Gone!--"Alas!" I Said, Sighing For The Illusion Fled, "Again, Sweet Sleep, That Scene Restore, Oh! Let Me Dream It O'Er And O'Er!"[1]