Only in Sleep

Yesterday I got this poem from Poemhunter.com and found it simply beautiful. The unforgettable memories of a childhood. So here it is.
I have left the original formatting in place. It looks rather eye catching.
Well, at least, so I think.

"Only in Sleep"

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Only in sleep I see their faces, Children I played with when I was a child, Louise comes back with her brown hair braided, Annie with ringlets warm and wild. Only in sleep Time is forgotten -- What may have come to them, who can know? Yet we played last night as long ago, And the doll-house stood at the turn of the stair. The years had not sharpened their smooth round faces, I met their eyes and found them mild -- Do they, too, dream of me, I wonder, And for them am I too a child? Sarah Teasdale