And so, as all tired people do, They've gone to lay their sleepy heads Deep, deep in warm and happy beds. The sun has shut his golden eye, And gone to sleep beneath the sky; The birds, and butterflies, and bees Have all crept into flowers and trees, And all lie quiet, still as mice, Till morning comes, like father's voice. So Phyllis, Owen, Geoffrey, you Must sleep away till morning too; Close little eyes, lie down little heads, And sleep, sleep, sleep in happy beds. As the Reader has not been afflicted with a great deal of verse in these pages, I shall also venture to copy here another little song which, as his brains have grown older, George has been fond of singing to them at bedtime, and with which the Reader is not likely to have enjoyed a previous acquaintance:-- REST.[1] When the Sun and the Golden Day Hand in hand are gone away, At your door shall Sleep and Night Come and knock in the fair twilight; Let them in, twin travellers blest; Each shall be an honoured guest, And give you rest. They shall tell of the stars and moon, And their lips shall move to a glad sweet tune, Till upon your cool, white bed Fall at last your nodding head; Then in dreamland fair and blest, Farther off than East and West, They give you rest. Night and Sleep, that goodly twain, Tho' they go, shall come again; When your work and play are done, And the Sun and Day are gone Hand in hand thro' the scarlet West, Each shall come, an honoured guest, And bring you rest. Watching at your window-sill, If upon the Eastern hill Sun and Day come back no more, They shall lead you from the door To their kingdom calm and blest, Farther off than East or West, And give you rest.