There’s a swaying of branches where the white blossom swings,
There’s a drifting of petals and a folding of wings,
And a hush in the glade where the nightingale sings,
As we glide a-down the dusk of dreams.

Long ago the wind sang lullaby,
Rock’d the sleepy world to lullaby,
Calling us away, Oh, so far and far away,
Crooning down the dusk of dreams.

There’s a glowing of embers when the fire-flicker dies,
There’s a deep’ning of shadows and a closing of eyes,
And there’s one ray of sunlight where a drowsy bird lies,
As we glide a-down the dusk of dreams.