TO THE LITTLE BED AT NIGHT

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.