The White Island

In this world, the Isle of Dreams, While we sit by sorrow's streams, Tears and terrors are our themes,
 * Reciting:

But when once from hence we fly, More and more approaching night Unto young eternity,
 * Uniting

In that whiter Island where Things are evermore sincere; Candour here, and lustre there,
 * Delighting:&mdash;

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 eternal watch shall keep,
 * Attending

Pleasures such as shall pursue Me immortalized, and you: And fresh joys, as never too
 * Have ending.