Robert Herrick (1591–1674)

IN this world, the Isle of Dreames,

While we sit by Sorrow’s streames,

Teares and terrors are our themes,

Reciting:

But when once from hence we flie,

More and more approaching nigh

Unto young eternitie,

Uniting,

In that Whiter Island, where

Things are evermore sincere;

Candor here and lustre there,

Delighting:

There no monstrous fancies shall

Out of hell an Horror call,

To create, or cause at all,

Affrighting.

There, in calm and cooling sleep,

We our eyes shall never steep,

But eternall watch shall keep,

Attending

Pleasures such as shall pursue

Me immortalized and you;

And fresh, joyes, as never to

Have ending.