The elegant Spencer declares the spirituality of the eye. He aptly refers to the lights of heaven; he says:—
Compare her eyes,
Not to the sun, for they do shine by night;
Not to the moon, for they are changing never;
Not to the stars, for they have purer light;
Not to the fire, for they consume not ever;
But to the Maker's self, they lik'st be,
Whose light doth lighten all things here we see.
Listen again, he says:—
In her fair eyes two living lamps did flame,
Kindled above at the heavenly Maker's light,
And darted fiery beams out of the same,
So passing brilliant and so wondrous bright,
That quite bereaved the vast beholder's sight.
Butler has not forgotten woman's eye:—
The darts of love, like lightning wound within,
And tho' they pierce it, never hurt the skin;
They leave no marks behind them where they fly,
Tho' through the tend'rest part of all—the eye.
Campbell says:—
When all is still in death's devoted soil,
The march-worn soldier mingles for the toil,
As rings his glittering spear,
He lifts on high
His dauntless brow
And spirit-speaking eye.
Collins is a faithful artist of the passions. He says:—
With eyes upraised, as one inspired,
Pale Melancholy sat retired.
Smollett speaks in his Ode to Truth:—
'Tis Truth, I see her set
In majesty of light,
With Laughter at her side,
Bright ey'd Fancy hovering near, &c.
The author of the Pleasures of Imagination concurs with
