Byron's Poetical Works, Volume 1

  Oh! little lock of golden hue
    In gently waving ringlet curl’d,
  By the dear head on which you grew,
    I would not lose you for a world.

  Not though a thousand more adorn
    The polished brow where once you shone,
  Like rays which guild a cloudless sky

    Beneath Columbia’s fervid zone.

1806.

[Footnote 1:  These lines are preserved in MS. at Newstead, with the following memorandum in Miss Pigot’s handwriting:  “Copied from the fly-leaf in a vol. of my Burns’ books, which is written in pencil by himself.”  They have hitherto been printed as stanzas 5 and 6 of the lines “To a Lady,” etc., p. 212.]

[Footnote i: 

  a cloudless morn.

[’Ed’. 1832.]