The Ring of Amethyst

by Alice Wellington Rollins

One day I heard a little lady say,

“O morning-glory, would that I were you!

Twining around the porch that lovely way,

Where you will see my dear one coming through.

So fair you are, he’ll surely notice you,

And wait perhaps a moment, just to praise

The clinging prettiness of all your ways,

And tender tint of melting white and blue.

O morning-glory, would that I were you!”

I heard the little lady’s lover say,