When man relies on woman's eyes
His destiny to shew forth,
Let him beware the black arts there,
The treachery and so forth.
Each dear deceit seems oh! so sweet,
Desirable and truthful,
The fools make haste deep joy to taste
And suck a bitter toothful.

Eyes raven black may well bring back
One's dread of that dark omen,
And eyes of grey will soon betray
One's credence in a woman.
Soft eyes of brown will reap renown
For falsehood with the bluest, —
In every pair lies love's despair,
The newest are the truest.

The Chinese play looks very gay
With lamps of colored paper,
When every flame burns just the same
Upon a tallow taper.
So women's eyes, if men were wise,
Are lanterns highly tinted,
A tallow kind of light behind,
And tallow rather stinted.