Sincerely yours,
J. R. of R.
Washington, January, 1821.
TO A LOCK OF HAIR.
BY J. DOGGETT, Jr.
Bright auburn lock! which like the wing
Of some kind angel sweeping by,
Shinest in the sun a glossy thing,
As soft as beams from beauty's eye,
Thou dost recall, sweet lock, to me,
All of the heaven of memory.
Thou once did'st shade a marble brow,
Where beauty raised her polish'd throne;
Methinks I gaze upon it now
And listen to a silver tone—
Which floats from lips in notes as sweet
As angel's greetings when they meet.
Fair lock! I'd rather hold with thee
A silent, blissful, strange commune,
Than join that boisterous gaiety
Which seems of happiness the noon:
For thou dost whisper, shining hair,
Peace comes not, rests not, is not there.
Philadelphia, June, 1836.