Or the graver Margaret’s stately grace;
Golden locks, or braided raven hair.
“Then it happen’d by a strange, sad fate,
One thought entered into each young soul:
Joy for one—if for the other pain;
Loss for one,—if for the other gain,
One must lose, and one possess the whole.
“And so this—this—what they car’d for—came
And belong’d to Margaret: was her own.
But she laid the gift aside, would take