C.D. Warner, et al., comp.
The Library of the World’s Best Literature. An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.
Gustav Pfizer (18071890)
The Two Locks of Hair
A
I wander through the world;
Here, Arab-like, is pitched my tent,
And straight again is furled.
Close in my heart was locked,
And in the sweet repose of life
A blessed child I rocked.
Too long did it remain!
So long, that both by night and day
It ever comes again.
To a grave so cold and deep
The mother beautiful was brought;
Then dropped the child asleep.
I bathe mine eyes and see;
And wander through the world once more,
A youth so light and free.
Left me that vision mild:
The brown is from the mother’s hair,
The blond is from the child.
Pale grows the evening-red;
And when the dark lock I behold,
I wish that I were dead.