Men All, And Birds, And Creeping Beasts, When The Dark Of Night Is Deep, From The Moving Wonder Of Their Lives Commit Themselves To Sleep. Without A Thought, Or Fear, They Shut The Narrow Gates Of Sense; Heedless And Quiet, In Slumber Turn Their Strength To Impotence. The Transient Strangeness Of The Earth Their Spirits No More See: Within A Silent Gloom Withdrawn, They Slumber In Secrecy. Two Worlds They Have - A Globe Forgot Wheeling From Dark To Light; And All The Enchanted Realm Of Dream That Burgeons Out Of Night.