Page:Dramatis personae.djvu/41

7.
"Not my hair!" made the girl her moan—
 "All the rest is gone or to go;
But the last, last grace, my all, my own,
 Let it stay in the grave, that the ghosts may know!
Leave my poor gold hair alone!"

8.
The passion thus vented, dead lay she;
 Her parents sobbed their worst on that,
All friends joined in, nor observed degree:
 For indeed the hair was to wonder at,
As it spread—not flowing free,

9.
But curled around her brow, like a crown,
 And coiled beside her cheeks, like a cap,
And calmed about her neck—ay, down
 To her breast, pressed flat, without a gap
I' the gold, it reached her gown.

10.
All kissed that face, like a silver wedge
 'Mid the yellow wealth, nor disturbed its hair:
E'en the priest allowed death's privilege,
 As he planted the crucifix with care
On her breast, 'twixt edge and edge.