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Alas poor chin, many a wart is richer. - William Shakespeare, The History of Troilus and Cressida (Cressida at I, ii) Bind up those tresses. O, what love I note In the fair multitude of those her hairs! Where but by chance a silver drop hath fallen, Even to that drop ten thousand wiry friends Do glue themselves in sociable grief, Like true, inseparable, faithful loves, Sticking together in calamity. - William Shakespeare, The Life and Death of King John (King Philip at III, iv) Her name is Portia, nothing undervalued To Cato's daughter, Brutus' Portia; Nor is the wide world ignorant of her worth, For the four winds blow in from every coast Renowned suitors, and her sunny locks Hang on her temples like a golden fleece, Which makes her seat of Belmont Colcho's strond, And many Jasons come in quest of her. - William Shakespeare, The Merchant of Venice (Bassanio at I, ii) (Gobbo:) Lord worshipped might he be, what a beard hast thou got! Thou hast got more hair on thy chin than Dobbin my fill-horse has on his tail. (Launcelot:) It should seem then that Dobbin's tail grows backward. I am sure he had more hair of his tail than I have of my face when I last saw him. - William Shakespeare, The Merchant of Venice (Gobbo & Launcelot at II, ii) Her hair is auburn, mine is perfect yellow-- If that be all the difference in his love, I'll get me such a colored periwig. - William Shakespeare, The Two Gentlemen of Verona (Julia at IV, iv) Thy fair hair my heart enchained. - Sir Philip Sidney (Sydney), Neapolitan Villanell Her golden locks she roundly did uptie in braided trammels, that no looser hairs did out of order stray about her dainty ears. - Edmund Spenser Her long loose yellow locks lyke golden wyre, Sprinckled with perle, and perling flowres atweene, Doe lyke a golden mantle her attyre. - Edmund Spenser, Epithalamion (st. 9) Ah, thy beautiful hair! so was it once braided for me, for me; Now for death is it crowned, only for death, lover and lord of thee. - Algernon Charles Swinburne, Choriambics (st. 5) Robed in the long night of her deep hair. - Lord Alfred Tennyson Sweet girl graduates, in their golden hair. - Lord Alfred Tennyson But, rising up, Robed in the long night of her deep hair, so To the open window moved. - Lord Alfred Tennyson, Princess The Father of Heaven. Spin, daughter Mary, spin, Twirl your wheel with silver din; Spin, daughter Mary, spin, Spin a tress for Viola. - Francis Thompson, The Making of Viola (st. 1) Come let me pluck that silver hair Which 'mid thy clustering curls I see; The withering type of time or care Has nothing, sure, to do with thee. - Alaric Alexander Watts, The Grey Hair Her hair is bound with myrtle leaves, (Green leaves upon her golden hair!) Green grasses through the yellow sheaves Of Autumn corn are not more fair. - Oscar Wilde (Oscar Fingal O'Flahertie Wills Wilde), La Bella Donna della Mia Mente Her luxuriant hair,--it was like the sweep of a swift wing in visions! - Nathaniel Parker Willis A silver line, that from the brow to the crown, And in the middle, parts the braided hair, Just serves to show how delicate a soil The golden harvest grows in. - William Wordsworth Displaying page 4 of 4 for this topic: << Prev 1 2 3 [4]
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