Classic Poem

I WOKE; the harbored melody
Had crossed the slumber bar,
And out upon the open sea
Of consciousness, afar
Swept onward with a fainter strain,
As echoing the dream again.

So soft the silver sound, and clear,
Outpoured upon the night,
That Silence seemed a listener
O'erleaning with delight
The slender moon, a finger-tip
Upon the portal of her lip.

WHY fear thee, brother Death,
That sharest, breath by breath,
This brimming life of mine?
Each draught that I resign
Into thy chalice flows.
Comrades of old are we;
All that the Present knows
Is but a shade of me:
My Self to thee alone
And to the Past is known.