My locks are shorn for sorrow Of love which may not be; Tomorrow and tomorrow Are plotting cruelty. The winter wind tangles These ringlets half-grown, The sun sprays with spangles And rays like his own. Oh, quieter and colder Is the stream; he will wait; When my curls touch my shoulder He will comb them straight.
- by Elinor Wylie (1885 - 1928), "Ophelia" [author's text checked 1 time against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)
- by Anthony Strilko (b. 1931), "Ophelia", published 1958. [medium voice and piano] [text not verified]
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
This text was added to the website: 2008-08-31
Line count: 12
Word count: 56