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?
Robert Seymour Bridges OM (23 October 1844 – 21 April 1930) was Britain's poet laureate from 1913 to 1930. A doctor by training, he achieved literary fame only late in life. His poems reflect a deep Christian faith, and he is the author of many well-known hym…
View profile & all 27 Poems / StoriesWhither, O splendid ship, thy white sails crowding,Leaning across the bosom of the urgent West,
AbsenceWhen my love was away,
Awake, my heart, to be loved, awake, awake!The darkness silvers away, the morn doth break,
'Twas at that hour of beauty when the setting sunsquandereth his cloudy bed with rosy hues, to flood
I will not let thee go.Ends all our month-long love in this?
