LOVELOCKS

I watched the Lady Caroline

Bind up her dark and beauteous hair;

Her face was rosy in the glass,

And‘ twixt the coils her hands would pass,

White in the candleshine.

Her bottles on the table lay,

Stoppered, yet sweet of violet;

Her image in the mirror stooped

To view those locks as lightly looped

As cherry boughs in May.

The snowy night lay dim without,

I heard the Waits their sweet song sing;

The window smouldered keen with frost;

Yet still she twisted, sleeked and tossed

Her beauteous hair about.