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Stedman and Hutchinson, comps. A Library of American Literature:
An Anthology in Eleven Volumes. 1891.
Vols. IX–XI: Literature of the Republic, Part IV., 1861–1889

Good Night

By Samuel Griswold Goodrich (1793–1860)

[From Poems. 1851.]

THE SUN has sunk behind the hills,

The shadows o’er the landscape creep;

A drowsy sound the woodland fills,

And nature folds her arms to sleep:

Good night—good night.

The chattering jay has ceased his din—

The noisy robin sings no more—

The crow, his mountain haunt within,

Dreams ’mid the forest’s surly roar:

Good night—good night.

The sunlit cloud floats dim and pale;

The dew is falling soft and still;

The mist hangs trembling o’er the vale,

And silence broods o’er yonder mill:

Good night—good night.

The rose, so ruddy in the light,

Bends on its stem all rayless now,

And by its side the lily white,

A sister shadow, seems to bow:

Good night—good night.

The bat may wheel on silent wing—

The fox his guilty vigils keep—

The boding owl his dirges sing;

But love and innocence will sleep:

Good night—good night.