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.
More verses by Alfred Lord Tennyson
- The Princess: A Medley: Tears, Idle Tears
- In Memoriam A. H. H.: 6. One Writes, That Other Friends Rem
- In Memoriam A. H. H.: 44. How Fares It With The Happy Dead?
- The Princess (Part 1)
- In Memoriam A. H. H.: 82. I Wage Not Any Feud With Death