HE tales are told, the songs are sung,The evening romp is over,And up the nursery-stairs they climb,With little buzzing tongues that chimeLike bees among the clover. Their busy brains and happy hearts Are full of crowding fancies ;From song and tale and make believe A wondrous web of dreams they… … TWENTY-THREE, TWENTY-FOUR. The starry night is fair without; The new moon rises slowly ;The nursery lamp is burning faint;Each white-robed, like a little saint, Their prayers they murmur lowly. Good-night! The tired heads are still On pillows soft reposing.The dim and dizzy mist of sleepAbout their…
Children's poetry · Picture books for children
Internet Archive · Library of Congress · Public Domain Mark 1.0. Free to use for anything.