Dream on, for dreams are sweet:
Do not awaken!
Dream on, and at thy feet
Pomegranates shall be shaken.
Who likeneth the youth
Of life to morning?
‘ Tis like the night in truth,
Rose-coloured dreams adorning.
The wind is soft above,
The shadows umber.
( There is a dream called Love. )
Take thou the fullest slumber!
In Lethe's soothing stream,
Thy thirst thou slakest.
Sleep, sleep;‘ t is sweet to dream.
Oh, weep when thou awakest!