My Love Asleep

There was a night I woke to dreaming
with the moonlight gently streaming,
scheming, through the room.
In bed beside you lay, closed tight,
and in the wicked dead of night
sight had tricked my thinking

Into believing

Passionless and still you lay
the moon made your face ashen gray,
stay, and still you slept.
My heart then trembled deep in fear
for passion, which it held so dear,
'ere I thought was dead

So seeming

Sweetly then you breath in-took
and gently then your shoulders shook,
shook as if in dreaming.
My hand upon your cheek did rest
and mine own cheek upon your breast
blessed you until morning.