'ONLY a woman's hair,'
A fair lock severed and dead ;
But where is the maiden where
That delicate head ?
Perhaps she is rich and fair,
Perhaps she is poor and worn,
And 'twere better that one somewhere
Had never been born.
And the careless hand that threw
That faded tress away
Ah ! the false heart that once seemed true,
Ah ! love flung away.
