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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.
The hoary head is a crown of glory, if it be found in the way of
righteousness.
The hoary head is a crown of glory, if it be found in the way of
righteousness.
She knows her man, and when you rant and swear,
Can draw you to her with a single hair.
She knows her man, and when you rant and swear,
Can draw you to her with a single hair.
And though it be a two-foot trout,
'Tis with a single hair pulled out.
And though it be a two-foot trout,
'Tis with a single hair pulled out.
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.
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.
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.
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?
