And o’er them many a sliding star,
And many a merry wind was borne,
And stream’d thro’ many a golden bar,
The twilight melted into morn. 160
III.
‘O eyes long laid in happy sleep!’
‘O happy sleep, that lightly fled!’
‘O happy kiss, that woke thy sleep!’
‘O love, thy kiss would wake the dead!’
And o’er them many a flowing range 165