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Mid My Gold-Brown Curls

 'Mid my gold-brown curls 
There twined a silver hair: 
I plucked it idly out 
And scarcely knew 'twas there.
Coiled in my velvet sleeve it lay And like a serpent hissed: "Me thou canst pluck & fling away, One hair is lightly missed; But how on that near day When all the wintry army muster in array?"

Poem by George Eliot
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