Poetry Archives

Sleep on—I lie at heaven’s high oriels,
 Over the stars that murmur as they go
 Lighting your lattice-window far below;
And every star some of the glory spells
 Whereof I know.
I have forgotten you, long long ago;
 Like the sweet, silver singing of thin bells
Vanished, or music fading faint and low.
 Sleep on—I lie at heaven’s high oriels,
Who loved you so.