Poetry Archives

“I’ll tell you how the leaves came down,”
  The great tree to his children said,
“You’re getting sleepy, Yellow and Brown,
  Yes, very sleepy, little Red.
  It is quite time to go to bed.”

“Ah!” begged each silly, pouting leaf,
  “Let us a little longer stay;
Dear Father Tree, behold our grief;
  Tis such a very pleasant day
  We do not want to go away.”

So, for just one more merry day
  To the great tree the leaflets clung,
Frolicked and danced, and had their way,
  Upon the autumn breezes swung,
  Whispering all their sports among,—

“Perhaps the great tree will forget,
  And let us stay until the spring,
If we all beg, and coax, and fret.”
  But the great tree did no such thing;
  He smiled to hear their whispering.

“Come, children, all to bed,” he cried;
  And ere the leaves could urge their prayer,
He shook his head, and far and wide,
  Fluttering and rustling everywhere,
  Down sped the leaflets through the air.

I saw them; on the ground they lay,
  Golden and red, a huddled swarm,
Waiting till one from far away,
  White bedclothes heaped upon her arm,
  Should come to wrap them safe and warm.

The great bare tree looked down and smiled,
  “Good-night, dear little leaves,” he said.
And from below each sleepy child
  Replied, “Good-night,” and murmured,
  “It is so nice to go to bed!”