I never gave a lock of hair away
To a man , dearest , except this to thee ,
Which now upon my fingers thoughtfully
I ring out to the full brown length and say
'Take it .' My day of youth went yesterday ;
My hair no longer bounds to my foot's glee ,
Nor plant I it from rose or myrtle - tree ,
As girls do , any more , it only may
Now shade on two pale cheeks , the mark
Of tears , taught drooping from the head
That hangs aside through sorrow's trick .
I thought the funeral - shears would
Take this first , but Love is justified , --
Take it , thou , ... finding pure ,
From all those years , the kiss my
Mother left here when she died .

" Sonnets From The Portuguese XVIII "
--- Elizabeth Barrett Browning
( 1806 - 1861 )