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(From Poems, 1638)
ON a still, silent night, scarce could I number | |
| One of the clock, but that a golden slumber | |
| Had locked my senses fast, and carried me | |
| Into a world of blest felicity, | |
| I know not how: first to a garden, where | 5 |
| The apricot, the cherry, and the pear, | |
| The strawberry and plum, were fairer far | |
| Than that eye-pleasing fruit that caused the jar | |
| Betwixt the goddesses, and tempted more | |
| Than fair Atlanta’s ball, though gilded o’er. | 10 |
| I gazed awhile on these, and presently | |
| A silver stream ran softly gliding by, | |
| Upon whose banks lilies more white than snow, | |
| New fallen from heaven, with violets mixed, did grow; | |
| Whose scent so chafed the neighbour-air, that you | 15 |
| Would softly swear that Arabic spices grew | |
| Not far from thence, or that the place had been | |
| With musk prepared, to entertain Love’s queen. | |
| Whilst I admired, the river passed away, | |
| And up a grove did spring, green as in May | 20 |
| When April had been moist; upon whose bushes | |
| The pretty robins, nightingales, and thrushes | |
| Warbled their notes so sweetly, that my ears | |
| Did judge at least the music of the spheres. | |
| But here my gentle dream conveyed me | 25 |
| Into the place where I most longed to see, | |
| My mistress’ bed; who, some few blushes past | |
| And smiling frowns, contented was at last | |
| To let me touch her neck; I, not content | |
| With that, slipped to her breast, thence lower went, | 30 |
| And then I—awaked. | |
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