ENGLISH AND IRISH EYES.
Air—"Jock of Hazeldeen."
The world's wealth should not buy, lady,
My heart for thee to wear,
For in your Saxon eye, lady,
There's something all may share;
And though the glances strike, lady,
From out your orbs of fire,
There's nothing there to like, lady,
Though much there's to admire.
They look too much around, lady—
All restless is their mien—
Though there one truth I've found, lady,
You would not love but feign;
And with a quiet fireside, lady,
They could not be content
The space is far too wide, lady,
O'er which their glance is sent.
And cloak them how you will, lady,
At times they must be seen—
They cannot aye be still, lady,
Beneath their silken screen;
But let them still rove on, lady,
To make some weak hearts pine,
The power they had is gone, lady,
To rule this heart of mine.
Give me the eyes at home, lady,
Whose glances show no guile;
Though free as ocean's foam, lady,
On all they will not smile;
But for the darling one, lady,
Their look will know no change,
And e'en when life's sands run, lady,
Their spirit will not range.
Then turn thine eyes away, lady—
On others let them roam;
My young heart cannot stray, lady,
From our sweet eyes at home.
In cups brimful of wine, lady,
That sparkle high with foam,
I drink farewell to thine, lady,
But love to those at home.