Her Eyes

To a woman that I knew Were eyes of an extravagant hue: Viz. , china blue. Those I wear upon my head Are sometimes green and sometimes red, I said. My mother's eyes are wet and blear, My little sister's are not clear, Poor silly dear. It must be given to but few, A pair of eyes so utter blue And new. Where does she keep them from this glare Of the monstrous sun and the wind's flare Without any wear; And were they never in the night Poisoned by artificial light Much too bright; And had this splendid beast no heart That boiled with tears and baked with smart The ocular part? I'll have no business with those eyes, They are not kind, they are not wise, Painted pigsties. A woman shooting such blue flame I apprehend will get some blame On her good name.