EMILY EASTER MONDAY

318

I’ll tell you how the Sun rose —

A Ribbon at a time —

The Steeples swam in Amethyst —

The news, like Squirrels, ran —

The Hills untied their Bonnets —

The Bobolinks — begun —

Then I said softly to myself —

“That must have been the Sun”!

But how he set — I know not —

There seemed a purple stile

That little Yellow boys and girls

Were climbing all the while —

Till when they reached the other side,

A Dominie in Gray —

Put gently up the evening Bars —

And led the flock away —