[Editor: This poem by Agnes Neale was published in Shadows and Sunbeams (1890).]
Good-night! Good-night! The summer day is dying,
From the dim east the long grey shadows creep;
The breezes whisper low among the tree-tops,
In the long grass the flowers have gone to sleep.
Good-night! Good-night! The sky is gold and crimson,
A royal couch for the fair dying day;
Its fringes sweep the earth in rainbow glory,
And tinge with light the tall hills far away.
Good-night! Good-night! The evening star is lying,
A liquid diamond on the field of night;
Melting and flashing in the rosy splendor,
Trembling as dewdrops tremble in the light.
Good-night! Good-night! The stars are out in myriads,
White points of light along the wide black sky;
The earth is wrapped in darkness as a mantle,
And sad and slow the whispering winds sweep by.
Good-night! Good-night! The morn that breaks to-morrow
May dawn upon a brighter world than this;
May shine upon a land that knows no night-time,
Bend down and give me, love, your good-night kiss.
One kiss before I close my eyes in slumber,
Tired eyes, already longing for the light;
Perhaps, who knows, my dreams may be the brighter,
So, one last kiss! Good-night, my love, good-night!
Agnes Neale, Shadows and Sunbeams, Adelaide: Burden & Bonython, 1890, pages 47-48
morn = morning
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