Till To-Morrow.

Good night! good night!—the golden day Has veiled its sunset beam, And twilight's star its beauteous ray Has mirrored in the stream;— Low voices come from vale and height, And murmur soft, good night! good night! Good night!—the bee with folded wings Sleeps sweet in honeyed flowers, And far away the night-bird sings In dreamy forest bowers, And slowly fades the western light In deepening shade,—good night! good night! Good night! good night!—in whispers low The ling'ring zephyr sighs, And softly, in its dreamy flow, The murm'ring brook replies; And, where yon casement still is bright, A softer voice has breathed good-night! Good night!—as steals the cooling dew Where the young violet lies, E'en so may slumber steal anew To weary human eyes, And softly steep the aching sight In dewy rest—good night! good night!