Lord Alfred Tennyson

In Memoriam A. H. H. OBIIT MDCCCXXXIII: 67

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.
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