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As Children bid the Guest "Good Night"
And then reluctant turn—
My flowers raise their pretty lips—
Then put their nightgowns on.
As children caper when they wake
Merry that it is Morn—
My flowers from a hundred cribs
Will peep, and prance again.
More verses by Emily Dickinson
- Fame Of Myself, To Justify
- I Gave Myself To Him
- Forever At His Side To Walk
- By My Window Have I For Scenery
- A Little Dog That Wags His Tail