Now the Sun is Sinking

NOW the sun is sinking
In the golden west;
Birds and bees and children
All have gone to rest;
And the merry streamlet,
As it runs along,
With a voice of sweetness
Sings its evening song.

Cowslip, daisy, violet,
In their little beds,
All among the grasses,
Hide their heavy heads;
There they’ll all, sweet darlings!
Lie in happy dreams
Till the rosy morning
Wakes them with its beams.