Classic Poem

It comes from childhood land,
Where summer days are long
And summer eves are bland,—
A lulling good-night song.

Upon a pasture stone,
Against the fading west,
A small bird sings alone,
Then dives and finds its nest.

The evening star has heard,
And flutters into sight;
O childhood's vesper-bird,
My heart calls back, Good-Night.