Spirits

Angel spirits of sleep,  
White-robed, with silver hair,  
In your meadows fair,  
Where the willows weep,  
And the sad moonbeam  
On the gliding stream  
Writes her scatter'd dream:  
 
Angel spirits of sleep,  
Dancing to the weir  
In the hollow roar  
Of its waters deep;  
Know ye how men say  
That ye haunt no more  
Isle and grassy shore  
With your moonlit play;  
That ye dance not here,  
White-robed spirits of sleep,  
All the summer night  
Threading dances light?