“Down to Sleep”
November woods are bare and still,
November days are clear and bright,
Each noon burns up the morning’s chill,
The morning’s snow is gone by night,
Each day my steps grow slow, grow light,
As through the woods I reverent creep,
Watching all things “lie down to sleep.”
I never knew before what beds,
Fragrant to smell and soft to touch,
The forest sifts and shapes and spreads.
I never knew before, how much
Of human sound there is, in such
Low tones as through the forest sweep,
When all wild things “lie down to sleep.”
Each day I find new coverlids
Tucked in, and more sweet eyes shut tight.
Sometimes the viewless mother bids
Her ferns kneel down full in my sight,
I hear their chorus of “good night,”
And half I smile and half I weep,
Listening while they “lie down to sleep.”
November woods are bare and still,
November days are bright and good,
Life’s noon burns up life’s morning chill,
Life’s night rests feet that long have stood,
Some warm, soft bed in field or wood
The mother will not fail to keep
Where we can “lay us down to sleep.”
H. H.