Janette's Hair

Oh, loosen the snood that you wear, Janette,
Let me tangle a hand in your hair — my pet;
For the world to me had no daintier sight
Than your brown hair veiling your shoulders white;
Your beautiful dark brown hair — my pet.

It was brown with a golden gloss, Janette,
It was finer than silk of the floss — my pet;
'Twas a beautiful mist falling down to your wrist,
'Twas a thing to be braided, and jewelled, and kissed —
'Twas the loveliest hair in the world — my pet.

My arm was the arm of a clown, Janette,
It was sinewy, bristled, and brown — my pet;
But warmly and softly it loved to caress
Your round white neck and your wealth of tress,
Your beautiful plenty of hair — my pet.

Your eyes had a swimming glory, Janette,
Revealing the old, dear story — my pet;
They were gray with that chastened tinge of the sky
When the trout leaps quickest to snap the fly,
And they matched with your golden hair — my pet.

Your lips — but I have no words, Janette —
They were fresh as the twitter of birds — my pet,
When the spring is young, and the roses are wet,
With the dewdrops in each red bosom set,
And they suited your gold brown hair — my pet.

Oh, you tangled my life in your hair, Janette,
'Twas a silken and golden snare — my pet;
But, so gentle the bondage, my soul did implore
The right to continue your slave evermore,
With my fingers enmeshed in your hair — my pet.

Thus ever I dream what you were, Janette,
With your lips, and your eyes, and your hair — my pet,
In the darkness of desolate years I moan,
And my tears fall bitterly over the stone
That covers your golden hair — my pet.