er gave a lock of hair away

    to a man, Dearest, except to thee,

    fully,

    I ring out to th and say

    take it. My day of yout yesterday;

    My o my foots glee,

    Nor plant I it from rose or myrtle-tree,

    As girls do, any more: it only may

    Now swo pale cears,

    taug hangs aside

    trick. I t the funeral-shears

    ould take t, but Love is justified,--

    take it those years,

    t here when she died.

    to s merchandise;

    I barter curl for curl upon t mart,

    And from my poets foreo my

    Receive tweighs argosies,--

    As purply black, as erst to Pindars eyes

    tresses gloomed at

    te Muse-broerpart, . . .

    the bay-crowns shade, Beloved, I surmise,

    Still lingers on t is so black !

    t of smooth,

    I tie the shadows safe from gliding back,

    And lay t wh;

    , as on to lack

    No natural  till mine groh.

    And  to speech

    thee, finding words enough,

    And orc, whe winds are rough,

    Beto cast light on each ?--

    I drop it at t. I cannot teach

    My o  so far off

    From myself--me--t I shee proof

    In words, of love  of reach.

    Nay, let the silence of my womanhood

    Commend my o thy belief,--

    Seeing t I stand unwon, however wooed,

    And rend t of my life, in brief,

    By a most dauntless, voiceless fortitude,

    Lest one touc convey its grief