Thy hue, dear pledge, is pure and bright <br />As in that well - remember'd night <br />When first thy mystic braid was wove, <br />And first my Agnes whisper'd love. <br /> <br />Since then how often hast thou prest <br />The torrid zone of this wild breast, <br />Whose wrath and hate have sworn to dwell <br />With the first sin that peopled hell; <br />A breast whose blood's a troubled ocean, <br />Each throb the earthquake's wild commotion! <br />O if such clime thou canst endure <br />Yet keep thy hue unstain'd and pure, <br />What conquest o'er each erring thought <br />Of that fierce realm had Agnes wrought! <br />I had not wander'd far and wide <br />With such an angel for my guide; <br />Nor heaven nor earth could then reprove me <br />If she had lived and lived to love me. <br /> <br />Not then this world's wild joys had been <br />To me one savage hunting scene, <br />My sole delight the headlong race <br />And frantic hurry of the chase; <br />To start, pursue, and bring to bay, <br />Rush in, drag down, and rend my prey, <br />Then - from the carcass turn away! <br />Mine ireful mood had sweetness tamed, <br />And soothed each wound which pride inflamed: - <br />Yes, God and man might now approve me <br />If thou hadst lived and lived to love me!<br /><br />Sir Walter Scott<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-a-lock-of-hair/
