MORNING-GLORIES.
By Laura Ledyard Pope.
My neighbor's morning-glories rise
And flutter at her casement;
My morning-glories' lovely eyes
Peep just above the basement.
And both our morning-glories strew
With loveliness the railing,
And thrust their starry faces through
The vines about the paling.
But when at last the thrifty sun
A work-day world arouses,
Hers gather up their dainty skirts
And vanish in their houses.
They draw their silken curtains close,
There's not a soul can find them;
And mine run up the school-house path,
And shut the door behind them!
