Ay, the eyes of May, . .
Winsome, laughing, gay,
Winsome, laughing, tender eyes
But, for all that, very wise.
I fear their cunning wisdom, yet,
Her glances seem so coy and shy
My studied caution I forget, . . .
I fear, alas, too often I
Eye the eyes of May!
I fear, I fear her glances arch,
Yet their ‘lurement I obey;
For Caesar had his Ides of March,
I, the eyes of May.