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CHANGES.

NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED

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

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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