The beauty of her hair bewilders me-- <br />Pouring adown the brow, its cloven tide <br />Swirling about the ears on either side <br />And storming round the neck tumultuously: <br />Or like the lights of old antiquity <br />Through mullioned windows, in cathedrals wide <br />Spilled moltenly o'er figures deified <br />In chastest marble, nude of drapery. <br />And so I love it--. Either unconfined; <br />Or plaited in close braidings manifold; <br />Or smoothly drawn; or indolently twined <br />In careless knots whose coilings come unrolled <br />At any lightest kiss; or by the wind <br />Whipped out in flossy ravellings of gold.<br /><br />James Whitcomb Riley<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/her-hair-3/
