Be not afeard: the isle is full of noises, Sounds, and sweet airs, that give delight, and hurt not. 130 Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments Will hum about mine ears; and sometimes voices, That, if I then had waked after long sleep, Will make me sleep again: and then, in dreaming, The clouds methought would open, and show riches 135 Ready to drop upon me; that, when I waked, I cried to dream again.
