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Francis Thompson - `Chose Vue`
Work rating: Low

A metrical caprice.

Up she rose, fair daughter--well she was graced
As a cloud her going, stept from her chair,
As a summer-soft cloud, in her going paced,
Down dropped her riband-band, and all her waving hair
Shook like loosened music cadent to her waist;--
Lapsing like music, wavery as water,
   Slid to her waist.
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