Fin de Fête

Sweetheart, for such a day
     One mustn't grudge the score;
Here, then, it's all to pay,
     It's Good-night at the door.
 
Good-night and good dreams to you,—
     Do you remember the picture-book thieves
Who left two children sleeping in a wood the long night through,
     And how the birds came down and covered them with leaves?
 
So you and I should have slept,—But now,
     Oh, what a lonely head!
With just the shadow of a waving bough
     In the moonlight over your bed.