Her two blue windows faintly she up-heaveth,
Like the fair sun, when in his fresh array
He cheers the morn, and all the earth relieveth;
And as the bright sun glorifies the sky,
So is her face illumin'd with her eye.
But hers, which through the crystal tears gave
light,
Shone like the moon in water seen by night.
Venus and Adonis. L. 491.
Black brows they say
Become some women best, so that there be not
Too much hair there, but in a semicircle
Or a half-moon made with a pen.
. Winter's Tale. Act II. Sc. 1. L. 8.
Thine eyes are like the deep, blue, boundless
heaven
Contracted to two circles underneath
Their long, fine lashes; dark, far, measureless,
Orb within orb, and line through line inwoven.
Shelley—Prometheus Unbound. Act II.
Sc. 1.
| author =
| work =
| place =
| note =
| topic = Eyes
| page =
}}
{{Hoyt quote
| num = 5
| text = Think ye by gazing on each other's eyes
To multiply your lovely selves?
Shelley—Prometheus Unbound. Act VI.
Sc. 4.
So when thou saw'st in nature's cabinet
Stella thou straight'st look'st babies in her eyes.
Sib Philip Sidney—Astrophel and Stella.
| seealso = (See also Beaumont)
| topic = Eyes
| page =
}}
{{Hoyt quote
| num =
| text = <poem>But have ye not heard this,
How an one-eyed man is
Well sighted when
He is among blind men?
John Skelton—Why come ye not to Courte?
(writing against Wolsey).
| seealso = (See also Erasmus)
The sight of you is good for sore eyes.
Swift—Polite Conversation. Dialog. I.
Were you the earth dear love, and I the skies
My love would shine on you like to the sun
And look upon you with ten thousand eyes
Till heaven waxed blind and till the world
were done.
J. Sylvester—Love's Omnipotence.
| seealso = (See also Bourdillon)
| topic = Eyes
| page =
}}
{{Hoyt quote
| num =
| text = <poem>Her eyes are homes of silent prayer.
The Father of Heaven.
Scoop, young Jesus, for her eyes,
Wood-browned pools of Paradise—
Young Jesus, for the eyes,
For the eyes of Viola.
Angels.
Tint, Prince Jesus, a
Dusked eye for Viola!
Francis Thompson—The Making of Viola.
St. 2.
But optics sharp it needs, I ween,
To see what is not to be seen.
John Trumbull—McFingal. Canto I. L. 67.
How blue were Ariadne's eyes
When, from the sea's horizon line,
At eve, she raised them on the skies!
My Psyche, bluer far are thine.
Aubrey De Verb—Psyche.
Blue eyes shimmer with angel glances.
Like spring violets over the lea.
Constance F. Woolson—October's Song.
The harvest of a quiet eye,
That broods and sleeps on his own heart.
Wordsworth—A Poet's Epitaph. St. 13.
F
FACE
It is the common wonder of all men, how among so many millions of faces there should be none alike.
Sir Thomas Browne—Religio Medici. Pt. II. Sec. II. </poem>
A face to lose youth for, to occupy age
With the dream of, meet death with.
Robert Browning—A Likeness.
Showing that if a good face is a letter of recommendation, a good heart is a letter of credit.
Bulwer-Lytton—What Will He Do With It?
Bk. II. Title of Ch. XI.
As clear and as manifest as the nose in a
man's face.
| author = Burton
| work = Anatomy of Melancholy.
| place = Pt. III.
Sec. III. Memb. 4. Subsec. I.
| seealso = (See also {{sc|Rabelais)
And her face so fair
Stirr'd with her dream, as rose-leaves with the air.
| author = Byron
| work = Don Juan. Canto IV. St. 29.
Yet even her tyranny had such a grace,
The women pardoned all, except her face.
| author = Byron
| work = Don Juan. Canto V. St. 113.
And to his eye
There was but one beloved face on earth,
And that was shining on him.
| author = Byron
| work = The Dream. St. 2.
There is a garden in her face,
Where roses and white lilies blow;
A heavenly paradise is that place,
Wherein all pleasant fruits do grow.
There cherries grow that none may buy,
Till cherry ripe themselves do cry.
