Classic Poem

Good-night, little bed, with your patient white pillow,
Your light little spread, and your blanket of yellow!
I wonder what leaves you so pensive to-night—
The breezes are tender, the stars are so bright,
I should think you would wrinkle a little and smile,
And be happy to think we can sleep for a while.
Are you waiting for something? Or are you just seeming
To listen so breathlessly, hushed, as though dreaming
A form that is fresher than breezes so light,
A coming more precious than stars to the night,
Who shall mould you as soft as the breast of a billow,
And crown with all beauty your patient white pillow?
Good-night, little bed—are you lonely so late?
We will lie down together, together we'll wait.