Lord Byron Poem

A Woman’s Hair

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Oh! little lock of golden hue
     In gently waving ringlet curl’d,
By the dear head on which you grew,
     I would not lose you for a world.

Not though a thousand more adorn
     The polished brow where once you shone,
Like rays which gild a cloudless sky
     Beneath Columbia’s fervid zone.

Stanzas To Jessy
Pignus Amoris

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