Rhymes of a Child's World by Miriam Clark Potter - HTML preview

 THE FLYING HOURS

Twelve little birds fly by in a row—

Bright little birds are they—

Shining and free, and as blue as can be,

And these are the hours of the day;

The sun shines warmly across their wings

As they hurry their way along;

And now and again, in their joy of things,

They carol a daytime song.

Twelve little owls fly by in a row,

Silent and dark their flight;

Gray little things, with shadowy wings,

And these are the hours of the night;

But the last of them all, as he hovers low,

Is flushed with a radiant pink;

This is the good little sunrise owl;

I like him the best, I think.