When on my bed the moonlight falls,
      I know that in thy place of rest
      By that broad water of the west,
There comes a glory on the walls;

Thy marble bright in dark appears,
      As slowly steals a silver flame
      Along 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 eyes
I sleep till dusk is dipt in gray;

And then I know the mist is drawn
      A lucid veil from coast to coast,
      And in the dark church like a ghost
Thy tablet glimmers to the dawn.

Last modified 14 February 2010