NO BED

No bed ! no bed ! we shouted,
And wheeled our eyes from home
To where the green and golden woods
  Cried, Come !

Wild sang the evening birds,
The sun-clouds shone in our eyes,
A silver snippet of moon hung low
  In the skies.

We ran, we leapt, we sang,
We yodelled loud and shrill.
Chased Nobody through the valley and
  Up the hill.

We laughed, we quarrelled, we drank
The cool sweet of the dew.
Beading on bud and leaf the dim
  Woods through.

We stayed, we listened, we looked —
Now dark was on the prowl !
Too-whit-a-woo, from its hollow called
  An owl . . . .

O Sleep, at last to slide
Into eyes made drunk with light;
Call in thy footsore boys to harmless
  Night !

- Walter de la Mare