Classic Poem

The day is gone, the night is come,
The night for quiet rest:
And every little bird has flown
Home to its downy nest.

The robin was the last to go,
Upon the leafless bough
He sang his evening hymn to God,
And he is silent now.

The bee is hushed within the hive,
Shut is the daisy's eye;
The stars alone are peeping forth
From out the darkened sky.

No, not the stars alone; for God
Has heard what I have said:
His eye looks on His little child,
Kneeling beside its bed.

He kindly hears me thank him now
For all that he has given,
For friends, and books, and clothes, and food;
But most of all for Heaven,

Where I shall go when I am dead,
If truly I do right;
Where I shall meet all those I love,
As Angels pure and bright.