 | A little book of tribune verse |  |
126
A GOLDEN HAIR.
Only a golden hair
Found on my coat to-day,
Why should my lady stare,
Why wear an injured air,
Why should she say,
“Love, we must sever,
Farewell, forever?”
Found on my coat to-day,
Why should my lady stare,
Why wear an injured air,
Why should she say,
“Love, we must sever,
Farewell, forever?”
Curse on that golden hair
Found on my coat to-day!
However came it there,
By means of foul or fair,
I cannot say;
But this, I know, alack!
My lady's hair is black!
Found on my coat to-day!
However came it there,
By means of foul or fair,
I cannot say;
But this, I know, alack!
My lady's hair is black!
January 3d, 1883.
| A little book of tribune verse | |