There's a Fairy that hides in the beautiful eyes
Of the children who treat her well;
In the little round hole where the eyeball lies
She weaves her magical spell.

She is awfully tiny and shy to the sight,
But her magic's past believing,
For she fills you with light and with laughter,
It's the spell of her own sweet weaving.

But! -- the eyes must be blue,
And the heart must be true,
And the child must be better than gold!
And then if you'll let her,
The quicker the better,
She'll make you forget that you're old.
 ... 

So if such a child you should chance to see,
Or with such a child to play,
No matter how tired or dull you be,
Nor how many tons you weigh,
You will suddenly find that you're young again,
And your movements  ...  light and airy,
And you'll try to be solemn and stiff in vain -
It's the Spell of the Blue-Eyes fairy!

 ...