< A Spring Harvest
A STUDY
In chamber hung with white,
Lit by the dawning light,
Lit by the dawning light,
Upon a slender bed
She lies, as she were dead:
She lies, as she were dead:
Most carven-ivory fair,
And palely gold her hair.
And palely gold her hair.
Lo, the sun's yellow ray,
That, with the rise of day,
That, with the rise of day,
Through quartered casement came
To wake her life's pale flame.
To wake her life's pale flame.
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