Beauty’s Hair
A gleam of light across the night,
   I know that you are there;
The heavens show the lovely glow
   Of your transcendent hair,
   Your luminous, miraculous, and morning-coloured hair.
I’ll take my silver javelin
   And point it with a star,
For I have vowed to climb a cloud
   And reach to where you are.
My javelin’s barb shall pierce your hair
   And pin it to the sky,
And I will run to the island sun
   Where captive you will lie,
And then I shall dare to touch your hair,
To steal a tress of your magic hair,
And bring to the world a tress of hair
   And win the world thereby.
Or shall I put on a green-sea cloak
   With sunset laces trimmed,
And shine so gay that the dawn will say
   That her radiance is dimmed?
There never was a lover could shine more fair
   Than I in my cloak will shine;
And all for the sake of your merry hair,
Your whimsical, perilous, golden hair,
Your lovely, terrible, golden hair,
   More sweet than love or wine.
A twisted bit of silver
   Fell down and bruised my face.
What was it broke my broidered cloak
   And tore the sunset lace?
I must be clad in sorrow
   Because you are so gay,
And close my eyes if I would see
   A whiter light than day.
So lofty is your golden hair,
I cannot climb to touch your hair,
I must kneel down to find your hair
   Upon the trampled way.

Webpage © 2001 ELC
Lane Core Jr. (
Created April 5, 2001; not revised.