Poetry Archives

They praised the baby’s dimpled hands,
  His brow so broad and fair,
They kiss the dainty rose-bud mouth,
  Caress the sunny hair.
His lisping words, his tottling steps,
  His smiles they praise and prize,
They love him for his cunning ways,
  I love him for his eyes.

The wealth of golden tinted curls
  Old Time will streak with snow;
The rose-bud mouth so dainty curved
  To sterner lines will grow.
The fleeting years will mark with change
  Each feature now they prize,
Save only the sweet eyes I love—
  I love him for his eyes.

Those wondrous, wondrous soulful eyes,
  How strange the spell they fling
Unconsciously around my heart;
  What memories they bring!
What buried hours come thronging back—
  A distant, dearer clime—
Another pair of love-lit eyes,
  Another summer time.

Oh, baby, take your eyes away:
  They burn into my heart!
I’ll kiss you once, and say good-by,
  And hid the tears that start;
But through the years to come and go,
  The changeful scenes to rise,
I’ll love the little baby boy—
  I love him for his eyes.