Verse > Anthologies > Francis T. Palgrave, ed. > The Golden Treasury
Francis T. Palgrave, ed. (1824–1897). The Golden Treasury.  1875.
Sir W. Scott
CV. To a Lock of Hair
THY hue, dear pledge, is pure and bright 
As in that well-remember'd night 
When first thy mystic braid was wove, 
And first my Agnes whisper'd love. 
  Since then how often hast thou prest         5
The torrid zone of this wild breast, 
Whose wrath and hate have sworn to dwell 
With the first sin that peopled hell; 
A breast whose blood's a troubled ocean, 
Each throb the earthquake's wild commotion!  10
Oh if such clime thou canst endure 
Yet keep thy hue unstain'd and pure, 
What conquest o'er each erring thought 
Of that fierce realm had Agnes wrought! 
I had not wander'd far and wide  15
With such an angel for my guide; 
Nor heaven nor earth could then reprove me 
If she had lived, and lived to love me. 
  Not then this world's wild joys had been 
To me one savage hunting scene,  20
My sole delight the headlong race 
And frantic hurry of the chase; 
To start, pursue, and bring to bay, 
Rush in, drag down, and rend my prey, 
Then—from the carcass turn away!  25
Mine ireful mood had sweetness tamed, 
And soothed each wound which pride inflamed:— 
Yes, God and man might now approve me 
If thou hadst lived, and lived to love me! 

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