Daisies

At evening
When I go to bed, 
I see the stars 
Shine overhead; 
They are
The little daisies white 
That dot
The meadows of 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 
Of the town.