By "Ironquill" (Eugene Ware)
This poem was printed "by request" on the Notes and Queries page of the "Boston Transcript."
Oh, the poise of her head!
Down her queenly neck fell a brown cascade, With a tinge of red; When, she "lifted her finger at mo and "Young" man," although I was not afraid, Yet there came a sort of hypnotic thrill; And it made mo reflect that soon or late ous have some questions to ask of ate In regard to myself and a woman's will.
I had heard in my youth That around the heart of each wholesome man.
And I know it's the truth From the very start—By some unknown plan There is knotted and tied A single lone hair, and the hair is ret; And when it unties, the person dies, Or is broken-hearted—the same as dead I know it's so, for I've seen it tried.
And I hold it true that never a man Fought life and fought death, And fought friend and foe, For a woman's smile or a woman's fan, Whether to-day or Jong ago, Unless the. tresses upon her head Showed red, or at least a shade of red.
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.