University of Virginia Library

Aw, 'deed she was happy though, for all—
“Yes,” the misthress would say, “he's small
Is Tommy,” she says, “but his heart—his heart
Is big enough.” And he gave her a start
Many a time, she said, to see
The perfect happy he could be
With nothin', and the full of it too—
Yes—and she liked his eyes to be blue,
She said, it was making them so clear—
Such room, she said, he had in them there—
Such an arch, such a spread, like the round of the sky—
No cloud, no shadow of a lie.
Some eyes, ye see, is nothin' but fog,
And some is just like weak grog;
And some is like leeches, and some is like slugs,
And some is like bullets, and some is like bugs—
Muddy, some is, and some is sharp,
And some like a cod, and some like a carp—
Differin' sorts. But Tommy's was loops
Of light in light, just hoops in hoops
Of soft blue fire, and feathered about
With a kind of gray fluff, and openin' out,
And out, and out—the eye of this chap—
Hoops, you know—like ye'll see a map
That's showin' all the planets and things,
And the sun in the middle, and rings and rings—
No doubt you've seen the lek in a book.
So the misthress would sit, and look and look,
And give a little nod, I'm tould,
And bless this Tommy in her sowl.