BROWN eyes and blue, you ask me what
The girl meant (she was crying, then,
And cold, you think? - and she had not
A fire to warm her hands by?) when
She said that she would rather die
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Than live, and live so wretchedly.
Blue eyes and brown, I pray that you
May never know just what she meant;
And yet, my darlings, it is true,
That she was happy once: she went
To ride, or stay'd at home, you know;
And did not wander thro' the snow!
There is no fairy tale so strange
As life, and whether eyes are brown
Or blue, their light may some time change -
This is the prince that was the clown,
The princess walks, who was so fair, -
Rides the poor maid with golden hair!
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New Harvard Union.
