The virgin entering bright, indulged 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 raised 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: “Oh sacred rest, Sweet pleasing sleep, of all the powers the best! Oh 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 swerved along her bow with swift ascent.