Silently she's combing, Combing her long hair Silently and graciously, With many a pretty air. The sun is in the willow leaves And on the dappled grass, And still she's combing her long hair Before the looking-glass. I pray you, cease to comb out, Comb out your long hair, For I have heard of witchery Under a pretty air, That makes as one thing to the lover Staying and going hence, All fair, with many a pretty air And many a negligence. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BRONZE TRUMPETS AND SEA WATER; ON TURNING LATIN VERSE INTO ENGLISH by ELINOR WYLIE A SUMMER NIGHT by MATTHEW ARNOLD TO MRS. PRIESTLEY, WITH SOME DRAWINGS OF BIRDS AND INSECTS by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 17. THE CHILD by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) SHRODON FEAR: THE VU'ST PEART by WILLIAM BARNES INVOCATION by CHARLES BAUDELAIRE |