Explore "On a Discovered Curl of Hair" by Thomas Hardy on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
WHEN your soft welcomings were said, / This curl was waving on your head, / And when we walked where breakers dinned / It sported in the sun and wind, / And when I had won your words of grace / It brushed and clung about my face. / Then, to abate the misery / Of absentness, you gave it me.
Where are its fellows now? Ah, they / For brightest brown have donned a gray, / And gone into a caverned ark, / Ever unopened, always dark!
Yet this one curl, untouched of time, / Beams with live brown as in its prime, / So that it seems I even could now / Restore it to the living brow / By bearing down the western road / Till I had reached your old abode.