by john clare
out of her lovely oval frame
to me the studious girl came.
from in the parlor where she read
from far in the night upon her bed
coal fields covered in the purest snow
melting away into the blackest flow.
from this jungle of incessant rumble,
over the studious girl I forever stumble.
in the leaves blown down from the hills,
in springs freeing the snowy chills,
even in my children's children she shall always be,
the studious girl reading quietly.
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