Now the sun is sinking In the golden west; Birds and bees and children All have gone to rest; And the merry streamlet, As it runs along, With a voice of sweetness Sings its evening song. Cowslip, daisy, violet, In their little beds, All among the grasses Hide their heavy heads; There they'll all, sweet darlings, Lie in the happy dreams. Till the rosy morning Wakes them with its beams. Blogging from Your Wix Blog Dashboard On the dashboard, you have everything you need to mana