  Her eyes are brown, oh, Edith's eyes are brown! I will not boast the midnight of her hair, Nor yet because her radiant cheek is fair, And like the touch of autumn's thistle down; I will not swear I have not seen her frown; She may be rich and proud and debonair, For aught I know, I'm sure I do not care: But oh, her eyes, her eyes are Edith's crown! I've gazed upon the stars of northern skies And breathed the perfume of the southern breeze; I've listened to the boom of far-off seas On mystic shores; I've seen the full moon rise Through branch and bloom of old magnolia trees! There's nothing like the thrill of Edith's eyes! |
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