Thine eyes are springs in whose serene And silent waters heaven is seen. Their lashes are the herbs that look On their young figures in the brook.
Sentiment: POSITIVE
Weak eyes are fondest of glittering objects.
The beauty that addresses itself to the eyes is only the spell of the moment; the eye of the body is not always that of the soul.
The eyes those silent tongues of love.
Eyes so transparent that through them the soul is seen.
It's true about the eyes being the window to the soul. Your face can be etched with worry, and twisted by ageing, but the eyes tell the true story of who you are.
My mother's eyes were large and brown, like my son's, but unlike Sam's, they were always frantic, like a hummingbird who can't quite find the flower but keeps jabbing around.
I thinned them out real thin once and it just didn't look like me. I know it was in style to have really thin eyebrows, but it didn't look right on my face.
What is thine is mine, and all mine is thine.
The little windflower, whose just opened eye is blue as the spring heaven it gazes at.
My lashes are so long that if I don't curl them, I'm blind.
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