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.

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

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

It is foolish to pluck out one's hair for sorrow, as if grief
could be assuaged by baldness.
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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.]

I pray thee let me and my fellow have
A hair of the dog that bit us last night.

I pray thee let me and my fellow have
A hair of the dog that bit us last night.

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.

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 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.