THE MORNING-GLORIES.

They bloom up the fresh, green trellis

In airy, vigorous ease,

And their fragrant, sensuous honey

Is best beloved of the bees.

Oh! the rose knows the dainty secret

How the morning-glory blows,

For the rose told me the secret,

And the jessamine told the rose.

And the jessamine said at midnight,

Ere the red cock woke and crew,

That the fays of queen Titania

Came there to bathe in the dew.

And the merry moonlight glistened

On wet, long, yellow hair,

And their feet on the flowers drowsy

Trod softer than any air.

And their petticoats, gay as bubbles,

They hung up every one

On the morning-glories’ tendrils

Till their moonlight bath were done.

But the red cock crew too early,

And the fays left hurriedly,

And this is why in the morning

Their petticoats there you see.