'Mid my gold-brown curls
There twined a silver hair:
I plucked it idly out
And scarcely knew 'twas there.
Coiled in my velvet sleeve it lay
And like a serpent hissed:
"Me thou canst pluck & fling away,
One hair is lightly missed;
But how on that near day
When all the wintry army muster in array?"
More verses by George Eliot
- I Grant You Ample Leave
- Two Lovers
- God Needs Antonio
- Sweet Endings Come And Go, Love
- The Choir Invisible