To a Lady, LXXVIII

Two laughing cherubs bent above me, That look’d like Cupids sent to love me, Laughing with all their elfin might, The very sculpture of delight; Their curly locks, and merry eyes, And their full voices’ melodies, The very vision, to recall My soul, without too sad a fall; The very link I needed, given, So wild with Earth, so full of Heaven! And as I woke, they flew away, A pair of cherubs—imp and fay, In mischief, merry o’er their fun, That they had plagu’d a sleepy one, Yet screaming in their happy laughter, Lest I should up, and follow after.