In winter I get up at night
And dress by yellow candle-light.
In summer quite the other way,
I have to go to bed by day.
I have to go to bed and see
The birds still hopping on the tree,
Or hear the grown-up people’s feet
Still going past me in the street.
And does it not seem hard to you,
When all the sky is clear and blue,
And I should like so much to play,
To have to go to bed by day?
NOTE: I wonder how many parents have heard that plaintive cry, “But it’s still LIGHT out!” Oh, how I hated to come in for my bath and get ready for bed. Games of Mother May I and Red Rover, Red Rover and Simon Says all coming to an end, and it wasn’t even dark yet! Well, not completely, anyway.