Nurse’s Song When the voices of children are heard on the green, And laughing is heard on the hill; My heart is at rest within my breast, And everything else is still.

‘Come hither, come hither, my children, come home; The sun is gone down, and the moon Is drawn from his ship, and the tempest blown Now pulls on its roof back so soon.’

But children do nothing of your behest:P As they gleefully rush to the trees, Echoes are all around then: the school bells Are singing from the thickets adrift.

Ah! but the sweet sounds move softly: Thus I will shut my door.

• William Blake