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:

Good night—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.