Classic Poem

I almost had forgotten
What lonely midnight meant —
The sky too sweet for sleeping,
With speckle-stars besprent.

I almost had forgotten
The old sweet folly: how
I sat with ink, outwatching
Orion and the Plough.

I almost had forgotten
That love is dearth and pain,
And how the body's vigil
Is goaded by the brain.

I almost had forgotten
That words were made for rhyme:
And yet how well I knew it —
Once upon a time!