Up jump Geoffrey!
Up jump Owen!!
Then up jump Phyllis!!!
And father's going!
EVENING SONG.
The sun is weary, for he ran
So far and fast to-day;
The birds are weary, for who sang
So many songs as they?
The bees and butterflies at last
Are tired out; for just think, too,
How many gardens through the day
Their little wings have fluttered through.
And so, as all tired people do,
They've gone to lay their sleepy heads
Deep, deep in warm and happy beds.
The sun has shut his golden eye,
And gone to sleep beneath the sky;
The birds, and butterflies, and bees
Have all crept into flowers and trees,
And all lie quiet, still as mice,
Till morning comes, like father's voice.
So Phyllis, Owen, Geoffrey, you
Must sleep away till morning too;
Close little eyes, lie down little heads,
And sleep, sleep, sleep in happy beds.
As the Reader has not been afflicted with a great deal of verse in these
pages, I shall also venture to copy here another little song which, as
his brains have grown older, George has been fond of singing to them at
bedtime, and with which the Reader is not likely to have enjoyed a
previous acquaintance:--
REST.[1]
When the Sun and the Golden Day
Hand in hand are gone away,
At your door shall Sleep and Night
Come and knock in the fair twilight;
Let them in, twin travellers blest;
Each shall be an honoured guest,
And give you rest.
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