When speaking of the "young star" Aurora Raby's eyes, he discovers a heavenly mindedness and a peering into heaven itself. He says:—
She was sublime
In eyes, which sadly shone as seraphs shine.
All youth with an aspect beyond time,
Radiant and grave as pitying man decline;
Mournful, but mournful of another's crime,
She looked as if she sat by Eden's door,
And grieved for those who could return no more.
We must not forget some of the several parts of the Giaour. In the following, he describes other than pleasant qualities as gleaming through the eye; he says—
Dark and unearthly is the scowl
That glares beneath his dusky cowl:
The flash of that dilating eye
Reveals too much of time gone by;
Tho' varying, indistinct its hue,
Oft well his glance the gazer knew,
For in it lurks that nameless spell
Which speaks, itself unspeakable,
A spirit yet unquell'd and high,
That claims and keeps ascendancy;
And like the bird whose pinions shake,
But cannot fly the gazing snake.
When speaking of Medora:—
The long, dark lashes fringed her lids of snow,
And veiled,—thought shrinks from all that lurked below.
Oh! o'er the eye death most asserts his right,
And hurls the spirit from her throne of light;
Sinks those blue orbs in that long, last eclipse,
But spares as yet the charm around her lips.
To Ianthe, he says, as lovers speak:—
Oh let that eye, which wild as the gazelle's,
Now brightly bold or beautifully shy,
Wins as it wanders, dazzles where it dwells,
Glance o'er this page.
