'Mid my gold-brown curls 
There twined a silver hair: 
I plucked it idly out 
And scarcely knew 'twas there. 
Coiled in my velvet sleeve it lay 
And like a serpent hissed: 
"Me thou canst pluck & fling away, 
One hair is lightly missed; 
But how on that near day 
When all the wintry army muster in array?"
Mid My Gold-Brown Curls
written byGeorge Eliot
© George Eliot





