Great poetry of George Eliot
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Poem by George Eliot

‘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?”

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