Classic Poem

I have cherished it long, I would keep it still
Close to my heart, till my heart grew chill —
I have worn it there through weariest years,
'Tis damp with a warrior's only tears
As he wept for the beauty so pure and mild
That passed from his path with his lovely child.

I have seen it wave to the soft wind's play
When she came to meet me at close of day —
When her light step sprang to the glad surprise,
And the clear light glistened within her eyes,
And the broad woods rang with the glee they heard
When my old arms circled my fairest bird.

I have smoothed it oft when she sank to rest
With her soft cheek pillowed upon my breast,
When her heart beat calm in its peaceful tide,
And her breath came warm to this withered side,
And a dream smile came in its spirit glow
As I stirred the dark tress from her pure young brow.

And I saw it again when her soul had fled,
And damply it clung to the brow of the dead —
The light from her radiant eyes was gone,
And her cheek was chill as the mountain storm;
I severed it then, for I could not bear
That all of my bright one should perish there.

Take it, pale stranger, I go afar —
My guide is the light of the western star;
But guard this tress as a sacred trust —
A holy link to the holiest dust —
And ere the bright years of thy life shall wane
She will claim the dark braid of her childhood again.