The tall, pink Fox-glove bowed his head—
The violets curtesied, and went to bed;
And good little Lucy tied up her hair
And said, on her knees, her favorite prayer.
And while on her pillow she softly lay,
She knew nothing more till again it was day,
And all things said to the beautiful sun,
“Good-morning, good-morning! our work is begun.”
—Lord Houghton.