O wretched world, go by,
Grown gray in sin and shame!
At rest in the arms of Peace I lie,
Deaf to thy praise or blame.

Day unto trances sweet,
And the night to dreams sublime;
To these I yield the moments fleet,
The conqueror of Time!

I have found the lilies of love,
That by indolent rivers nod;
I have drunken the holy dews thereof,
Quaffed, and become as a god!

Against the tempest-blast
My barque shall strive no more;
Though shattered and rent, she drives at last
To wreck on a Fairy Shore!