O queen, O temptress

O queen, O temptress, do invade my sleep,

That I may see the fancies of your worth;

And let me dream your being mine in mirth

While seconds in our hourglasses leap;

I wish for you, that you will sweetly keep

Me confidant to see your royal earth.

Yet even as I hold your slender girth,

My dreams a harvest ripe for you to reap,

You tempt me still, O queen, with greater height,

And swooning do I dream you unto me,

The surfeit of which then becomes my light:

So is it you? Or just a dream I see?

I hold you long, and feel you hold on tight—

This is a dream; what dreaming you must be!

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