On A Frightful Dream Poem by John Codrington Bampfylde

THIS morn ere yet had rung the matin peal,
The cursed Merlin, with his potent spell,
Aggrieved me sore, and from his wizard cell,
(First fixing on mine eyes a magic seal)
Millions of ghosts and shadowy shapes let steal;
Who, swarming round my couch, with horrid yell,
Chattered and mocked, as though from deepest Hell
They had escaped. - I oft, with fervent zeal,
Essayed, and prayer, to mar the enchanter's power.
In vain for thicker still the crew came on,
And now had weighed me down, but that the day
Appeared, and Phoebus, from his eastern tower,
With new-tricked beam, like truth immortal, shone,
And chased the visionary forms away.