Sleepe, angry beauty
by Thomas Campion
Sleepe, angry beauty, sleep, and feare not me.
For who a sleeping Lyon dares prouoke?
It shall suffice me here to sit and see
Those lips shut vp that neuer kindely spoke.
What sight can more content a louer's minde
Then beauty seeming harmlesse, if not kinde?
My words haue charm'd her, for secure shee sleepes ;
Though guilty much of wrong done to my loue ;
And in her slumber, see, shee close-ey'd weepes :
Dreames often more then waking passions moue.
Pleade, sleepe, my cause, and make her soft like thee,
That shee in peace may wake and pitty mee.
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