A fair little girl sat under a tree,

Sewing as long as her eyes could see;

Then smoothed her work, and folded it right,

And said, "Dear work, good night! good night!"

Such a number of rooks came over her head,

Crying, "Caw! Caw!" on their way to bed;

She said, as she watched their curious flight,

"Little black things, good night! good night!"

The horses neighed, and the oxen lowed,

The sheep's "bleat! bleat!" came over the road;

All seeming to say, with a quiet delight,

"Good little girl, 'good night! good night!' "

She did not say to the sun, "Good night!"

Though she saw him there like a ball of light;

For she knew he had God's time to keep

All over the world, and never could sleep.

The tall pink fox-glove bowed his head,

The violets curtsied and went to bed;

And good little Amy tied up her hair,

And said, on her knees, her favorite prayer.

Sleep, baby, sleep!

Thy father watches his sheep;

Thy mother is shaking the dreamland tree,

And down falls a little dream on thee.

Sleep, baby, sleep!