After a Debate upon the color of the eyes of an eloquent friend

M ARY , you say his eyes are blue,
While black, to me they seem:
Say, has the soul a favorite hue,
To shed its brightest beam?

Then does his soul-illumined eye
This favored hue display;
For there, in all its purity,
Dwells the celestial ray.

To gaze where such a lustre glows,
The dazzled eye declines;
For who, or form, or color knows,
Where inspiration shines.

Then strange it does not seem to me,
That when they rest on you,
You downward look, and cannot see
If they are black or blue.

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