Of the Lady Who Could Not Sleep in a Stormy Night

As gods sometimes descend from heav'n and deign
On earth a while with mortals to remain,
So gentle sleep from Serenissa flies,
To dwell at last upon her lover's eyes.
That god's indulgence can she justly crave,
Who flies the tyrant to relieve the slave?
Or should those eyes alone that rest enjoy,
Which in all others they themselves destroy?
Let her whom fear denies repose to take,
Think for her love what crowds of wretches wake.
So us'd to sighs, so long inur'd to tears.
Are winds and tempests dreadful to her ears?
Jove with a nod may bid the world to rest,
But Serenissa must becalm the breast.
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