BLUE EYES.
Reading edition
Violets, violets, blossoming low, Shadowy grasses under; Blue, blue eyes, Up at the skies Peering, as if in wonder. What tho’ the garden with bloom be sweet, Its mantle the wood renewing; And the birdlings glad Be rollicking mad And musical in their wooing; What tho’ the streamlet softly flow, Murmuring, laughing, grieving, And the livelong day The zephyr gay Story and rhyme be weaving; Never the spring-time hath been complete Till, the long grasses under, I find blue eyes Up at the skies Peering, as if in wonder.