The Ladies' Garland

THE EYE OF GREY.

Poets have praised the eye of black.
And eulogized the melting blue;
Have laid their fancy on the rack,
To celebrate each varied hue;
But not one single word they say,
About the pleasing eye of grey.

I like the mild grey eye--the faces
I most have loved, had eyes of grey;
And if each glance emits nor blazes,
As those of black, I know that they
Possess a charm that can subdue,
Hearts that withstood both black and blue.

The fair is fair, with eyes of black---
With eyes of grey, is still more fair;
And what the last in life may lack,
Is made up by the softer air,
Imparted to the lovely faces,
That grey and blue so often graces.

The black may pierce the gazer through,
And make the lighted spirits dance;
Our souls may melt before the blue,
Or die away in pleasure's trance;
But I will still my homage pay,
To the enchanting eye of grey.

The eye that kindly beams on me,
Shall always meet a like return;
And I will bend the ready knee,
Where'er those glances melt or burn;
And idolize the lovely hue,
Whether of grey, or black, or blue.

E. H.