Page:Twilight Hours (1868).djvu/73

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MINNIE CONNOR.

ALL her tangled hair a-curl,
All her tangled thoughts a-whirl.
Lost from off the string, O pearl !
Minnie Connor.

Flashing through the crowded streets,
Half a smile for all she meets,
Strangely diverse those she greets.
Minnie Connor.

Such bright visions in her eyes,
Such disdainment of disguise,
Such a power to fall or rise.
Minnie Connor.

Set in London home to tame,
Like a passion flower a-flame,
In a narrow garden frame.
Minnie Connor.