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Show THE CHOICE What is it you ask me, my darling, The color that's dearest to me In the ever-bright eyes of a maiden? Ah well, I must think - let me see. <br><br> Indeed, 'tis a serious question, There are black eyes, glowing with fire Which might charm, but that in a woman Not daring, but love, I desire. <br><br> And then melting brown eyes, persuasive, I know look so earnestly true, But they say that this color is fickle; I have no experience - have you? <br><br> Inspired, intellectual gray eyes Which deepen and darken intense, Would have all the votes but that somehow They seem filled with malice purpose. <br><br> But one color more claims attention, And that is - my dear, did you speak? The color of blue-bells so fragile, Of violets lowly and meek. <br><br> Blue thrills us in depths of the ocean, And charms us in heaven's dome, Bringing dreamy and pensive enjoyment Like thoughts of a distant home. <br><br> But to maidens' bright eyes 'tis more charming Than Nature e'er thought of, or knew; And I'll decide in its favor. For it always is faithful and true. <br><br> But why are you smiling and blushing? My loved one, look up, tell me true, What color are your eyes, my darling? Well, well, I declare they are blue! - Waverley. |