"Come, children, all to bed," he cried;
And ere the leaves could urge their prayer
He shook his head, and far and wide,
Fluttering and rustling everywhere,
Down sped the leaflets through the air.
I saw them; on the ground they lay,
Golden and red, a huddled swarm,
Waiting till one from far away,
White bedclothes heaped upon her arm,
Should come to wrap them safe and warm.
The great bare Tree looked down and smiled,
"Good night, dear little leaves," he said.
And from below, each sleepy child
Replied, "Good night," and murmured,
"It is so nice to go to bed!"
—Susan Coolidge.
[1] Copyright, 1889, by Roberts Brothers.
