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.

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?

It is foolish to pluck out one's hair for sorrow, as if grief
could be assuaged by baldness.
read more

It is foolish to pluck out one's hair for sorrow, as if grief
could be assuaged by baldness.
[Lat., Stultum est in luctu capillum sibi evellere, quasi calvito
maeror levaretur.]

Prejudice is like a hair across your cheek. You can't see it, you can't find it with your fingers, but read more

Prejudice is like a hair across your cheek. You can't see it, you can't find it with your fingers, but you keep brushing at it because the feel of it is irritating.

But the very hairs of your head are all numbered.

But the very hairs of your head are all numbered.

One hair of a woman can draw more than a hundred pair of oxen.

One hair of a woman can draw more than a hundred pair of oxen.

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.

Tresses, that wear
Jewels, but to declare
How much themselves more precious are.

Tresses, that wear
Jewels, but to declare
How much themselves more precious are.

His head,
Not yet by time completely silver'd o'er,
Bespoke him past the bounds of freakish youth,
read more

His head,
Not yet by time completely silver'd o'er,
Bespoke him past the bounds of freakish youth,
But strong for service still, and unimpair'd.