252 EYES - FEATURES - LIPS, &c. 16. Down her white neck, long, floating auburn curls, The least of which would set ten poets raving. BYRON'S Don Juan. 17. Her glossy hair was cluster'd o'er a brow Bright with intelligence, and fair and smooth; BYRON'S Don Juan. 18. An eye's an eye, and, whether black or blue, The kindest may be taken as the best. BYRON'S Don Juan. 19. A pure, transparent, pale, and radiant face, Like to a lighted alabaster vase. BYRON'S Don Juan. 20. Her eye's dark charm 't were vain to tell; But gaze on that of the gazelle, BYRON'S Giaour. 21. Soft eyes look'd love to eyes that spoke again. BYRON'S Childe Harold. 22. And the wild sparkle of her eye seem'd caught From high, and lighten'd with electric thought. 23. And eyes 24. Eyes like the starlight of the soft midnight, So darkly beautiful, so deeply bright. disclos'd what eyes alone can tell. BYRON'S Lara. DR. DWIGHT. MRS. C. H. W. ESLING. 25. And hate's last lightning quivers from his eyes. CHARLES SPRAGUE. 26. There are whole veins of diamonds in thine eyes, Might furnish crowns for all the queens of earth. BAILEY'S Festus. 27. With lightsome brow, and beaming eyes, and bright, Long, glorious locks, which drop upon thy cheek, Like gold-hued cloud-flakes on the rosy morn. 28. Thy blue eyes BAILEY'S Festus. Steal o'er the heart like sunshine o'er the skies; Theirs is the mild and intellectual ray That to the inmost spirit wins its way; MRS. A. B. WELBY. 29. The bright black eye, the melting blue I cannot choose between the two; That wears for me the sweetest smile. O. W. HOLMES. 30. Sweet, pouting lips, whose colour mocks the rose, R. H. WILDE's Tasso's Sonnets. 31. Yet well that eye could flash resentment's rays, 32. Let other men bow, and utter the vow Of devotion and love without end, C. F. HOFFman. As the sparkling black eye in triumph draws nigh, But give me the eye, thro' which I can spy To the depths of a heart warm and true; Whose colour may vie with the hue of the sky,— J. T. WATSON. 2. I took it for a fairy vision Of some gay creatures of the element, SHAKSPEARE. MILTON'S Comus. 3. And now they throng the moonlight glade, Above-below-on every side, 4. Their little minim forms array'd In all the tricksy pomp of fairy pride! DRAKE'S Culprit Fay. The palace of the sylphid queen- DRAKE'S Culprit Fay. 5. Her mantle was the purple roll'd DRAKE'S Culprit Fay. 6. Their harps are of the amber shade, That hides the blush of waking day, And every gleamy string is made Of silvery moonshine's lengthen'd ray. DRAKE'S Culprit Fay. 7. But she led him to the palace gate, And call'd the sylphs who hover'd there, 8. As ever ye saw a bubble rise, DRAKE'S Culprit Fay. And shine with a thousand changing dyes, 9. He put his acorn-helmet on; DRAKE'S Culprit Fay. It was plum'd of the silk of the thistle-down; Was once the wild bees' golden vest; His cloak, of a thousand mingled dyes, His shield was the shell of a lady-bug queen, Studs of gold on a ground of green ; And the quivering lance which he brandish'd bright, Was the sting of a wasp he had slain in fight. 10. Swift he bestrode his fiery steed; DRAKE'S Culprit Fay. blue; He bared his blade of the bent grass The fiery tail of the rocket-star. DRAKE'S Culprit Fay. 1. True faith and reason are the soul's two eyes; And sometimes both are clos'd, and neither see. 2. Faith lights us through the dark to deity; QUARLES. Whilst, without sight, we witness that she shows Though none, but by those works, the Godhead knows. 3. For modes of faith let graceless zealots fight; POPE'S Essay on Man. 4. Faith builds a bridge across the gulf of death, To break the shock blind Nature cannot shun, And lands thought smoothly on the farther shore. YOUNG'S Night Thoughts. 5. Death's terror is the mountain faith removes, That mountain-barrier between man and peace: 'Tis faith disarms destruction, and absolves From every clamorous charge the guiltless tomb. YOUNG'S Night Thoughts. 6. Fond as we are, and justly fond of faith, Reason, we grant, demands our first regard; YOUNG'S Night Thoughts. 7. But faith, fanatic faith, once wedded fast To some dear falsehood, hugs it to the last. MOORE'S Lalla Rookh. |