James Whitcomb Riley

(7 October 1849 - 22 July 1916 / Greenfield, Indiana)

Her Hair - Poem by James Whitcomb Riley

The beauty of her hair bewilders me-
Pouring adown the brow, its cloven tide
Swirling about the ears on either side
And storming round the neck tumultuously:
Or like the lights of old antiquity
Through mullioned windows, in cathedrals wide
Spilled moltenly o'er figures deified
In chastest marble, nude of drapery.
And so I love it- . Either unconfined;
Or plaited in close braidings manifold;
Or smoothly drawn; or indolently twined
In careless knots whose coilings come unrolled
At any lightest kiss; or by the wind
Whipped out in flossy ravellings of gold.


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Poem Submitted: Friday, April 9, 2010

Poem Edited: Saturday, December 27, 2014


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