‘ CHOSE VUE’.

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.