To seed the steps of heaven

Morning-glory must open!
To seed the steps of heaven
And on her nap of cloud;
Might yours be a halo a crown?
Opening the gates of heaven...
And that basket of laundry
It won’t need laundering
In heavens ephemeral care
Apollo the sun!
Will have had his run
With the morning air...
But you must mine darling
By break of nightfall-shining
Flit through a velvet-tare
Leap from the shadows of existence
With flowers in your hair!