by Frank Dempster Sherman (1860-1918)
At evening when I go to bed
I see the stars shine overhead;
They are the little daisies white
That dot the meadow of the Night
And often while 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 meadow of the town.
Frank Dempster Sherman was born in Peekskill, NY and educated at Columbia and Harvard, and later taught architecture at Columbia. He was well-known for his whimsical verse and frequently contributed to magazines and periodicals.