And cry, "How fairer were my locks than these !"By heav'ns, to heart she takes her head's disgrace,She weeps, and covers with her hands her face.She weeps, as in her lap her locks she views;What woman would not weep, such locks to lose!Ah, that they still did on her shoulders flow,Ah, that they now, where once they grew, did grow!Take courage, fair Corinna, never fear,Thou shalt not long these borrow'd tresses wear:Time for your beauty shall this loss repairAnd you again shall charm with native hair.