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

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.

But the very hairs of your head are all numbered.

But the very hairs of your head are all numbered.

Those curious locks so aptly twin'd,
Whose every hair a soul doth bind.

Those curious locks so aptly twin'd,
Whose every hair a soul doth bind.

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

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

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

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.

His hair stood upright like porcupine quills.

His hair stood upright like porcupine quills.