At evening when I go to bed
I see the stars shine overhead;
They are the little daisies white,
That dot the meadows in the night.
And often when I'm dreaming so
Across the sky the moon will go;
It is a Lady sweet and fair,
Who comes to gather daisies there.
For, when at morning I arise
There's not a star left in the skies;
She's picked them all and dropped them down
Into the meadows all over town.