The evening is coming,
The Sun sinks to rest;
The rooks are all flying
Straight home to their nest.
"Caw!" says the rook, 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.
Shut up for the night is the pimpernel 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!
Here comes the pony,
His work is all done;
Down through the meadow
He takes a good run;
Up goes his heels, and down goes his head:
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!

T. HOOD.