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Robert Bridges

Spirits

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 scatter'd 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?

About the poet
Robert Bridges
 
By the same poet
My Delight and Thy Delight
Nightingales
A Passer-by
Absence
On a Dead Child
Pater Filio
Winter Nightfall
When Death to Either shall come
 
Related books
Robert Bridges at amazon.co.uk


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