下载掌阅APP，畅读海量书库
立即打开
The big round sun has gone to sleep
Far down behind the hill;
Now through the trees the shadows creep,
And all the birds are still.
The pretty blue-bell shuts her eye;
The wind does softly blow.
The crickets chirp, “Good-night, good-night;
We all to rest must go.”
The day has gone, and baby dear
Will close her eyes, and then
Will sleep and dream with Mother near
Till daylight comes again.
—— Eleanor S. Fielden