The White Island, or Place of the Blest

      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 nigh

             Unto young eternity,

                     Uniting:

       In that whiter island, where

       Things are evermore sincere;

       Candor here and luster 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 eternal watch shall keep,

                   Attending

    Pleasures, such as shall pursue

         Me immortalized, and you;

        And fresh joys, as never too

                  Have ending.