Bird Songs at Eventide - Jenny Watson Over the quiet hills, slowly the shadows fall; Far down the echoing vale, birds softly call. Slowly the golden sun sinks in the gleaming west; Bird songs at eventide, call me, call me, to rest. Love, though the hours of day Sadness of heart may bring, When twilight comes again, Sorrows take wing; For, when the dusk of dreams Comes with the falling dew, Bird songs at eventide call me, call me to you. (Reprise, softly): Bird songs at eventide, call me, call me to you. Eric Coates