religious poem

doubtless i remember still
gone are the three, those sisters rare
the old songs
will you glimmer on the sea?
the pale day drowses on the western steep
up to her chamber window
quietly, with reverance, in awe
bring me soft song
up and down he goes
he'd even have his joke
awful truths these be
i had a dream and i awoke with it
in the cloud-gray mornings
a bird sang