“And yonder sits a maiden, The fairest of the fair, With gold in her garment glittering, And she combs her golden hair.”

“The Bear and the Maiden FairA bear there was, a bear, a bear!All black and brown, and covered with hair!The bear! The bear!Oh, come, they said, oh come to the fair!The fair? Said he, but I'm a bear!All black, and brown, and covered with hair!And Down the road from here to there.From here! To There!Three boys, a goat, and a dancing bear![He] danced and spun, all the way to the Fair!The Fair! The Fair![...]Oh, sweet she was, and pure, and fair!The maid with honey in her hair!Her hair! Her hair!The maid with honey in her hair![The bear,] smelled the scent on the summer air.The bear! The bear!All black and brown and covered with hair.He smelled the scent on the summer air!He sniffed and roared and smelled it there!Honey on the summer air!Oh, I'm a maid, and I'm pure and fair!I'll never dance with a hairy bear!A bear! A bear!I'll never dance with a hairy bear!He lifted her high into the air!The bear! The bear!I called for a knight, but you're a bear!A bear! A bear!All black and brown and covered with hair!She kicked and wailed, the maid so fair,But he licked the honey from her hair,Her hair! Her hair!Then she sighed and squealed and kicked the air!My bear! She sang. My bear so fair!And off they went, from here to there,The bear, the bear, and the maiden fair.~"The Bear and the Maiden Fair",”

“She wore white heirloom lace about her throatAnd in her hair a bright golden featherA pearl like a plum hung ripe from her neckBut her smile fetched ten gold together”

“It was an evil doom that set her in his path. For she is a fair maiden, fairest lady of a house of queens. And yet I know not how I should speak of her. When I first looked on her and perceived her unhappiness, it seemed to me that I saw a white flower standing straight and proud, shapely as a lily and yet knew that it was hard, as if wrought by elf-wrights out of steel.(Aragorn talking of Eowyn, in the Houses of Healing)”

“She tore off the kerchief from her head and let down her plentiful hair. The weight, the length, the glory was all there. She took careful stock of herself, then combed her hair and tied it back up again.”

“But the helm of her secrecy had fallen from her, and her bright hair, released from its bonds, gleamed with pale gold upon her shoulders. Her eyes grey as the sea were hard and fell, and yet tears were on her cheek. A sword was in her hand, and she raised her shield against the horror of her enemy's eyes.[…]Still she did not blench: maiden of the Rohirrim, child of kings, slender but as a steel-blade, fair yet terrible. A swift stroke she dealt, skilled and deadly. The outstretched neck she clove asunder, and the hewn head fell like a stone. Backward she sprang as the huge shape crashed to ruin, vast wings outspread, crumpled on the earth; and with its fall the shadow passed away. A light fell about her, and her hair shone in the sunrise.”