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.]

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.

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 hair is the richest ornament of women.

The hair is the richest ornament of women.

Within the midnight of her hair,
Half-hidden in its deepest deeps.

Within the midnight of her hair,
Half-hidden in its deepest deeps.

And from that luckless hour my tyrant fair
Has led and turned me by a single hair.

And from that luckless hour my tyrant fair
Has led and turned me by a single hair.

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.

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.