In the nineteenth century it was common for friends to exchange locks of hair as tokens of affection. After death these became precious keepsakes, or, if from a famous head, prized relics. ‘Mr. Keats’s hair was remarkable for its beauty, its flowing grace and fineness’, wrote Leigh Hunt in 1833. ‘It was a kind of ideal, poetical hair; and the locks we possess (for we have two) are beautiful specimens, calling up the instant admiration of the spectators. They are long, thick, exquisitely fine, and running into ringlets. The colour is brown, of that sort which has a yellowish look in it in some lights, and a darker one or auburn in others. … They are resses, things rarely seen nowadays, of natural growth, on the heads of young men; and remember the poet was a young man, and manly in spirit as his looks were beautiful.’ Shelley’s hair, said Hunt, was brown, ‘which, though tinged with grey, surmounted his face well, being in considerable quantity, and tending to curl’.