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?