On a Gentleman and his Wife visiting a Lady. He sleeping the while. Extempore. Spoke by Morpheus. 

Pardon, fair Nymph, I durst exert my Power,
 Invade your Rights in a facetious Hour;
 With gentle Slumbers seal those wondring Eyes,
 That might; unweary'd on such Beauties gaze:
 My Strength had fail'd had not your Forces joyn'd,
 And your own conquering Charms first struck him blind;
 Your softer Graces did his Soul intrance,
 Or I in vain should to the Sence advance. 
All the Mysterious One I did not seize,
 But spar'd that part which was most like to please;
 She whose diverting Tongue could entertain,
 With choice Collections from each Poet's Brain:
 But see my Fetters could not bind him long,
 He humbly sues for Pardon and a Song,
 From your soft Voice which turns the Soul to Ear,
 And drousie as I am, I'll stay to hear:
 If I with Nods should to the Tune keep time,
 It is at worst, but a complaisant Crime:
 Oh with what Joy! my Godhead I'd forsake,
 Might you for ever Sing, and I for ever Wake.