E. R. N.
THESE tuneful bells, all trembling yet
With wealth of heaven's own dew,
This birthday morn, my dear sweet friend,
Began their life for you.
Kissed by Aurora's rosy lips,
They woke with songs of praise
To Him who keeps and blesses you,
Through all earth's winding ways.
As from the flower, down falls the seed
Upon the waiting earth,
And lives again in fragrant bloom
Of beauty's priceless worth;__
So, in my heart, your own true love
Lives now in flowerful story,
And With my own lies folded in
This tell-tale Morning Glory.