 | Joaquin Miller's Poems |  |
XIX
Her head sank lower still: her hair,Her heavy hair, great skeins of gold,
Hung loosened, heedless, fold on fold,
As if she cared not, could not care;
She tried to speak but nothing said;
27
Step back a pace and shudder, start,
The while she slowly moved her head,
As if to say; but nothing said.
| Joaquin Miller's Poems | |