to-night he will ride home on mother's shoulder. See him look at his auntie !

The leaves have fallen from the big trees, but I do not think it is a cold day.

Good night, happy boy. You are going home to your bowl of bread and milk. You are going home to sleep in your little white bed. Wave your hand to the birds in the trees by the river. Good night, good night, happy boy.

The frost looked forth on a still, clear night,
And whispered, "Now, I shall be out of sight;
So, through the valley, and over the height,
In silence I'll take my way.

I will not go on like that blustering train,
The wind and the snow, the hail and the rain,