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.

His hair stood upright like porcupine quills.

His hair stood upright like porcupine quills.

But the very hairs of your head are all numbered.

But the very hairs of your head are all numbered.

The hair is the richest ornament of women.

The hair is the richest ornament of women.

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

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

We grow gray in our spirit long before we grow gray in our hair.

We grow gray in our spirit long before we grow gray in our hair.

And he said, My son shall not go down with you; for his brother
is dead, and he is read more

And he said, My son shall not go down with you; for his brother
is dead, and he is left alone: if mischief befall him by the way
in the which we go, then shall ye bring down my gray hairs with
sorrow to the grave.

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.

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.