Poetry Archives

The sun has sunk behind the hills,
  The shadows o’er the landscape creep;
A drowsy sound the woodland fills,
  And nature folds her arms to sleep:
              Good night—good night.

The chattering jay has ceased his din—
  The noisy robin sings no more—
The crow, his mountain haunt within,
  Dreams ’mid the forest’s surly roar:
              Good night—good night.

The sunlit cloud floats dim and pale;
  The dew is falling soft and still;
The mist hangs trembling o’er the vale,
  And silence broods o’er yonder mill:
              Goodnight—good night.

The rose, so ruddy in the light,
  Bends on its stem all rayless now,
And by its side the lily white
  A sister shadow, seems to bow:
              Good night—good night.

The bat may wheel on silent wing—
  The fox his guilty vigils keep—
The boding owl his dirges sing;
  But love and innocence will sleep:
              Good night—good night!