As when in Dreams imagin'd Forms appear,
When dreaded Sounds we distant seem to hear,
Or shady Ghosts with silent Horrour rise,
And Spectres glare before the sleeping Eyes,
Fearful of coming Ills we sweating lie,
And willing would from fancy'd Dangers fly:
Rooted we stand, the Heart incessant beats,
And hasty Strokes the quicker Pulse repeats.
Lab'ring to move we seem to strive in vain,
While pond'rous Clogs the struggling Feet retain.