May 18

Thou holdest mine eyes waking.

ANGEL spirits of sleep, White-robed, with silver hair,

In your meadows fair,

Where the willows weep,

And the sad moonbeam

On the gliding stream

Writes her scattered dream:

Angel spirits of sleep,

Dancing to the weir

In the hollow roar

Of its waters deep;

Know ye how men say

That ye haunt no more

Isle and grassy shore

With your moonlit play;

That ye dance not here,

White-robed spirits of sleep,

All the summer night

Threading dances light?

ROBERT

BRIDGES

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