THE Brilliant black eye
    May in triumph let fly
All its darts without caring who feels ’em;
    But the soft eye of blue,
    Though it scatter wounds too,
Is much better pleased when it heals ’em!
      Dear Fanny!

    The black...

Poet: Thomas Moore

All in the Downs the fleet was moored,
  The streamers waving in the wind,
When black-eyed Susan came aboard;
  “O, where shall I my true-love find?
Tell me, ye jovial sailors, tell me true
If my sweet William sails among the crew.”

William, who...

Poet: John Gay