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A Pause

 They made the chamber sweet with flowers and leaves, 
And the bed sweet with flowers on which I lay; 
While my soul, love-bound, loitered on its way.
I did not hear the birds about the eaves, Nor hear the reapers talk among the sheaves: Only my soul kept watch from day to day, My thirsty soul kept watch for one away:-- Perhaps he loves, I thought, remembers, grieves.
At length there came the step upon the stair, Upon the lock the old familiar hand: Then first my spirit seemed to scent the air Of Paradise; then first the tardy sand Of time ran golden; and I felt my hair Put on a glory,and my soul expand.

Poem by Christina Rossetti
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