Verse > Anthologies > T. R. Smith, ed. > Poetica Erotica: A Collection of Rare and Curious Amatory Verse
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T. R. Smith, comp.  Poetica Erotica: Rare and Curious Amatory Verse.  1921–22.
 
His Dream
By Sir John Suckling (1609–1642)
 
(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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