 | The Uncollected Poems of Henry Timrod |  |
CHOICE IN EYES
Some adore the soft blue eyeWhere Cupid in concealment sly
Ready lies to wing a dart
On th' unwary sleeping heart,
Others love the darker hue
Which never condescends to woo,
But with its glances fiery warm
Carries hearts as if by storm.
The dove like brown, and searching gray
Hath each the lovers of its ray,
The Hazel eye delighteth many
But a kind one pleaseth any.
For me whatever be the dye,
The blue the black the hazel eye,
If it on me sweetly smile
'Tis my favourite—for a while.
When it frowns I break the spell
Another'll suit me quite as well.
| The Uncollected Poems of Henry Timrod | |