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; ’tis sweet to dream. 
     Oh, weep then thou awakest!