Dear, dead women, with such hair, too--what's become of all the
gold
Used to hang and brush their read more

Dear, dead women, with such hair, too--what's become of all the
gold
Used to hang and brush their bosoms?

The little wind that hardly shook
The silver of the sleeping brook
Blew the gold hair about read more

The little wind that hardly shook
The silver of the sleeping brook
Blew the gold hair about her eyes,--
A mystery of mysteries.
So he must often pause, and stoop,
An all the wanton ringlets loop
Behind her dainty ear--emprise
Of slow event and many sighs.

His hair stood upright like porcupine quills.

His hair stood upright like porcupine quills.

An harmless flaming meteor shone for hair,
And fell adown his shoulders with losse care.

An harmless flaming meteor shone for hair,
And fell adown his shoulders with losse care.

The person who doesn't scatter the morning dew will not comb gray hairs

The person who doesn't scatter the morning dew will not comb gray hairs

And yonder sits a maiden,
The fairest of the fair,
With gold in her garment glittering,
read more

And yonder sits a maiden,
The fairest of the fair,
With gold in her garment glittering,
And she combs her golden hair.

Beware of her fair hair, for she excels
All women in the magic of her locks;
And read more

Beware of her fair hair, for she excels
All women in the magic of her locks;
And when she winds them round a young man's neck,
She will not ever set him free again.

But she is vanish'd to her shady home
Under the deep, inscrutable; and there
Weeps in a read more

But she is vanish'd to her shady home
Under the deep, inscrutable; and there
Weeps in a midnight made of her own hair.

It is foolish to tear one's hair in grief, as though sorrow would be made less with baldness.

It is foolish to tear one's hair in grief, as though sorrow would be made less with baldness.