Come with us, Ellie, in your mind
To where clear, burbling streamlets wind
And lakes of limpid lustre lie
Which, in each face, reflect the sky
When evening with its darkening pink
Announces that the Sun will sink
And, with the ending of the day,
Call children from their place of play
To spend the night asleep in dreams
Until at dawn the morrow gleams,
And Ellie, waking in her bed,
Will see again the morning red.
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