The evening is coming, the sun sinks to rest, The crows are all flying straight home to the nest. "Caw," says the crow as he flies overhead, "It's time little people were going to bed." The flowers are closing, the daisy's asleep, The primrose is buried in slumber so deep. Closed for the night are the roses so red, "It's time little people were going to bed." The butterfly, drowsy, has folded its wing; The bees are returning, no more the birds sing. Their labor is over, their nestlings are fed; "It's time little people were going to bed." Good-night, little people, good-night and good-night; Sweet dreams to your eyelids till dawning of light; The evening has come, there's no more to be said, It's time little people were going to bed. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: RUTHERFORD MCDOWELL by EDGAR LEE MASTERS RACHEL by WILLIAM H. ARMSTRONG III WHOM EARTH HAS TAUGHT: RENEWALS by MARGARET PERKINS BRIGGS DELIVER US FROM ... by AMELIA JOSEPHINE BURR DAWN by MAXWELL STRUTHERS BURT TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 2. WHO YOU ARE I KNOW NOT by EDWARD CARPENTER |