Canto LXV
When on my bed the moonlight falls,I know that in thy place of restBy that broad water of the west,There comes a glory on the walls:
Thy marble bright in dark appears,As slowly steals a silver flameAlong the letters of thy name,And o’er the number of thy years.
The mystic glory swims away;From off my bed the moonlight dies;And closing eaves of wearied eyesI sleep till dusk is dipt in gray:
And then I know the mist is drawnA lucid veil from coast to coast,And in the chancel like a ghostThy tablet glimmers to the dawn.