WAS ever a bard in such pitiful plight?
Was ever such seen by yon stars in the skies?
A-pit or a-bed—by day and by night,
I'm plagued by the magic of two hazel eyes.

A leaf in a whirlwind, I'm sent to and fro,
And peace, panic-stricken, my bosom still flies;
For rest I implore, but my portion below
Is the rest-killing magic of two hazel eyes.

The world it goes up, and the world it goes down,
And the lofty descend, and the lowly arise;
But fortune, the filter, may smile or may frown,
I feel but the magic of two hazel eyes.

Once blithe as a linnet I lilted my lay,
And won the applause of both foolish and wise—
Now deaf, dumb, derided, I go on my way,
Bewitched by the magic of two hazel eyes.

O Annie, wouldst thou but look down on my plight,
And pity my case, and no longer despise,
I'd dance in delight, I'd sing day and night,
And the theme of my lays be thy two hazel eyes!