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.

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.

Gray hair is a sign of age, not of wisdom.

Gray hair is a sign of age, not of wisdom.

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

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.

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.

It was brown with a golden gloss, Janette,
It was finer than silk of the floss, my pet;
read more

It was brown with a golden gloss, Janette,
It was finer than silk of the floss, my pet;
'Twas a beautiful mist falling down to your wrist,
'Twas a thing to be braided, and jewelled, and kissed--
'Twas the loveliest hair in the world, my pet.

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?