TO A LOCK OF HAIR
by: Sir Walter Scott (1771-1832)
- HY hue,
dear pledge, is pure and bright
- As in that well -- remember'd night
- When first thy mystic braid was wove,
- And first my Agnes whisper'd love.
-
- Since then how often hast thou prest
- The torrid zone of this wild breast,
- Whose wrath and hate have sworn to dwell
- With the first sin that peopled hell;
- A breast whose blood's a troubled ocean,
- Each throb the earthquake's wild commotion!
- O if such clime thou canst endure
- Yet keep thy hue unstain'd and pure,
- What conquest o'er each erring thought
- Of that fierce realm had Agnes wrought!
- I had not wander'd far and wide
- With such an angel for my guide;
- Nor heaven nor earth could then reprove me
- If she had lived and lived to love me.
-
- Not then this world's wild joys had been
- To me one savage hunting scene,
- My sole delight the headlong race
- And frantic hurry of the chase;
- To start, pursue, and bring to bay,
- Rush in, drag down, and rend my prey,
- Then -- from the carcass turn away!
- Mine ireful mood had sweetness tamed,
- And soothed each wound which pride inflamed: --
- Yes, God and man might now approve me
- If thou hadst lived and lived to love me!
"To a Lock of Hair" is
reprinted from The Golden Treasury. Ed. Francis T. Palgrave.
London: Macmillan, 1875. |
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POEMS BY SIR WALTER SCOTT |
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