those poets who compare the light of the eye to the dawn of day.
Milton also says:—
The eye-lids of the morn.
Akenside says:—
Hither, gentle maid,
Incline thy polished forehead, let thy eyes
Effuse the mildness of their azure dawn.
Young (a poet too much disregarded), describing a good man, says:—
With aspect mild, and elevated eyes,
Behold him seated on a mount serene.
The pen of Bulwer declares the beatific character of the eye, and says:—
Those eyes, those eyes, how full of heaven they are,
When the calm twilight leaves the heaven most holy;
Tell me, sweet eyes, from what divinest star
Did ye drink in your liquid melancholy,
Tell me, beloved eyes.
Kirke White (whose journey in this life was short) could not resist some thoughts on this interesting subject. He says:—
Sweet Jessy, I with transport burn,
Thy soft blue eyes to see;
Sweet Jessy, I would die to turn
Those melting eyes on me.
Again, this young poet becomes extatic, and says:—
Oh that my soul might take its final station
In her waved hair, her perfumed breath to sip;
Or, catch her blue eyes' fascination,
Or meet by stealth her soft vermilion lip.
Again,—
Black eyes mostly dazzle at a ball,
Blue eyes most please at evening fall;
The black a conquest soonest gains,
