by George MacDonald
The sun is gone down
And the moon's in the sky
But the sun will come up
And the moon be laid by.
The flower is asleep.
But it is not dead,
When the morning shines
It will lift its head.
When winter comes
It will die! No, no,
It will only hide
From the frost and snow.
Sure is the summer,
Sure is the sun;
The night and the winter
Away they run.
Last updated January 14, 2019