Betovéd, do you grieve apart To think your lovely eyes Are quite beyond the reach of art?
The blue of summer skies Can never be changed to grey or brown By aught that you may buy in town.
The peach has nothing, dear, on you, No secret it can teach; But you, with tints of varied hue, Have something on the peach.
Though that were better far removed; And nature you can now supply With further useful hints.
Your lovely lashes you can dye With starting rainbow tints.
It only needs that you select That which can give the best effect.
But if to such I would 'A complimentary ay, You needs must tell me ov Your colour for the day.
Better, perhaps, to hymn your eyes, Which' nougist, thank heaven, can disguise.
Touchstone. in. "Morning Post."
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.