
her hair the net of golden wire,
wherein my heart, led by my wandering eyes,
so fast entangled is that in no wise
it can, nor will, again retire;
but rather will in that sweet bondage die
than break one hair to gain her liberty.
(elizabethan poem of unknown authorship)
her hair the net of golden wire, wherein my heart, led by my wandering eyes, so fast entangled is that in no wise it can, nor will, again retire; but rather will in that sweet bondage die than break one hair to gain her liberty. (elizabethan poem of unknown authorship)
Leave a comment