I care not for the colour there,
Dark brown, or black, or blue,
Or even if you wink, ma chère,
With eyes of different hue.
I sent thee late a new glass eye,
Impervious to the tear,
Tinged with some new æsthetic dye,
And quite “too utter” dear.
You’ll wear it, won’t you, when you think
How faithful it must be,