MORNING-GLORIES.
HURRY! Hurry! Hurry!
Don't you see the sun,
Pretty Morning-Glories—
Work not yet begun?
Don't you know the morning
Is your little hour,
And how soon you’re drooping
If a cloud should lower?
Open quick your petals,
Swift to greet the day.
Higher! Higher! Higher!
Catch the first bright ray.
So be up and doing,
Children of the sun;
For your chief adorning
All his beams are spun.
Elizabeth A. Davis