For I can think of nothing madder
Than hair decked out in coils that go
To make what seems to be a ladder.
Unhappy day, when first you dressed
Your tresses thus—how you must rue it!
For you yourself, you know, confessed
It took you several hours to do it.
Oh, tell me, is it but a snare
Designed to captivate another,
Or do you merely bind your hair