Page:Twilight Hours (1868).djvu/73

 LL 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.