In the vale of years beneath A griesly troop are seen The painful family of Death More hideous than their Queen To each his suff'rings: all the same Condemn'd alike to groan The tender for another's pain Th' unfeeling for his own And happiness too swiftly flies When sign comes to bless For to come destroy their paradise The ignorance is bliss ♪ "To die, to sleep – to sleep, perchance to dream – ay, There's the rub, for in this sleep of death what dreams may come..."