Classic Poem

Like tears shed over a dream,
Like sighs that stream
In an unseen nameless way
Into the heart of our lay.

It seemed hour on hours,
Years like fading flowers
Scattered their petals and bloom
In a half-lit forest of gloom.

The softness of its sounds,
Like the coursing of a million hounds
Of dream over the glade of sleep
Where tortured silences creep.

Exquisite, pain-laden, peaceful,
This night most beautiful,
What love forsaken by loving
Sets his heart a'singing?

No torment in it, but tenderness;
A liquid star-music of sadness
Pours into my soul half asleep;
While the willows at my window weep.