The sun hath let him down go,
All wrapp'd in robes of gold;
The little winged creature hath looked for his home,
The bleating sheep his overlay;—
Kine lowing
While going
Along the back home path,
Where joyfully
What's more, merrily
The milkmaid fills her bucket.
Presently from a remote place the night star
Friends out with shaking light,
What's more, wild and high pitched the whippoorwill
Rehashes his boisterous "Goodbye!"
"Goodbye!"
Our night hours have flown along,
What's more, coasted quick away,
With music's appeal, and chipper tune,
Furthermore, banter happy and gay.
Hence gently
Furthermore, splendidly
Our tide of time has rolled;
While chuckling
Rang after
Each happy story very much told.
Yet, in the sky the Moon enjoys some real success,
Furthermore, from the spire's stature,
The 12 PM ring presently tolls the time
At the point when we should offer "Goodbye."
"Goodbye!"
May no pitiful idea, nor carking care,
Attack your peaceful rest;
Nor bad dream dismal, nor troll, dare
Vagrant o'er your sleeping bosom.
Significantly
Also, sufficiently
May Harmony your eyelids close;
Safe keeping,
While dozing,
Your heart from waking hardships.
May Holy messengers stand, a watchman band,
Around you quiet and brilliant;
While close to you move, in dreams of affection,
Sweet structures that inhale "Goodbye!"