BEDTIME.
The evening is coming, The sun sinks to rest; The rooks are all flying Straight home to the nest. “Caw!” says the rook, as he flies overhead; “It’s time little people were going to bed!”
The flowers are closing; The daisy’s asleep; The primrose is buried In slumber so deep; Shut up for the night is the pimpernel red; It’s time little people were going to bed!
The butterfly, drowsy, Has folded its wings, The bees are returning; No more the bird sings . Their labour is over, their nestlings are fed; It’s time little people were going to bed! —Tom Hood. (Sent by “Queen of Rose-Buds,” Timaru).
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/THD19300222.2.56.12
Bibliographic details
Timaru Herald, Volume CXXV, Issue 18500, 22 February 1930, Page 12 (Supplement)
Word Count
108BEDTIME. Timaru Herald, Volume CXXV, Issue 18500, 22 February 1930, Page 12 (Supplement)
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