Called from Bed

With merry eyes against the golden west,
Two baby girls half-sat, and half reposed;
And prattled in the sunshine, ere they closed
That summer's eve in childhood's balmy rest;
But, hark! their mother calls them from below,
She bids them rise! Right glad we were to see
The twain, whose happy talk came down the stee,
Lizzie and Kate, with night-gear white as snow,
And winsome looks: And when, with nod and smile,
And kiss for each, we left the woodside cot,
Upon the warm bright threshold for awhile
They stood, as we look'd back upon the spot,
Where crimson hollyhocks made contrast sweet
With those white darlings, and their naked feet.