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.
Giorgione. Sleeping Venus. c. 1510.