As Long As Your Eyes Are Blue

"Will you love me, sweet, when my hair is grey
And my cheeks shall have lost their hue?
When the charms of youth shall have passed away
Will your love as of old prove true?

"For the looks may change, and the heart may range
And the love be no longer fond;
Will you love with truth in the years of youth
And away to the years beyond?"

Oh, I love you, sweet, for your locks of brown
And the blush on your cheek that lies,
But I love you most for the kindly heart
That I see in your sweet blue eyes.

For the eyes are the signs of the soul within,
Of the heart that is leal and true,
And, my own sweetheart, I shall love you still,
Just as long as your eyes are blue.

For the locks may bleach, and the cheeks of peach
May be reft of their golden hue;
But, my own sweetheart, I shall love you still,
Just as long as your eyes are blue.

Andrew Barton Paterson

Andrew Barton Paterson, also known as Banjo Paterson, was an Australian bush poet, journalist, and author. Renowned for his poignant and humorous depictions of rural Australia, he wrote iconic works like "Waltzing Matilda" and "The Man from Snowy River." His storytelling, deeply rooted in Australian culture, has cemented his legacy as one of the nation's most beloved literary figures.

Andrew Barton Paterson

Santa Claus

Andrew Barton Paterson, Simple Poetry

A Bush Christening

Andrew Barton Paterson, Simple Poetry

Sydney Cup, 1899 - An Outside Trip

Andrew Barton Paterson, Simple Poetry

Benjamin Bandicoot

Andrew Barton Paterson, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

The Quest

I am looking for Love. Has he passed this way,
With eyes as blue as the skies of May,
And a face as fair as the summer dawn? -
You answer back, but I wander on, -
For you say: "Oh, yes; but his eyes were gray,
And his face as dim as a rainy day."

Good friends, I query, I search for Love;
His eyes are as blue as the skies above,
And his smile as bright as the midst of May
When the truce-bird pipes: Has he passed this way?
And one says: "Ay; but his face, alack!
Frowned as he passed, and his eyes were black."

O who will tell me of Love? I cry!
His eyes are as blue as the mid-May sky,
And his face as bright as the morning sun;
And you answer and mock me, every one,
That his eyes were dark, and his face was wan,
And he passed you frowning and wand...

James Whitcomb Riley

Black Eyes And Blue.

Blue eyes and jet
Fell out one morn,
Azure cried in a pet,
"Away, dark scorn!--
"We are brilliant and blue
"As the waves of the sea--
"And as cold and untrue
"And as changeable ye.

"We are born of the sky,
"Of a summer night,
"When the first stars lie
"In a bed of blue light;
"From the cloudy zone
"Round the setting sun,
"Like an angel's throne,
"Are our glories won."

"Pretty ladies, hold,"
Cupid said to the eyes--
For beauties that scold
"Are seldom wise;
"'Tis not colour I seek
"Love's fires to impart--
"Give me eyes that can speak
"From the depths of the heart."

Thomas Gent

Young Love

Young love, all rainbows in the lane,
    Brushed by the honeysuckle vines,
Scattered the wild rose in a dream:
    A sweeter thing his arm entwines.

Ah, redder lips than any rose!
    Ah, sweeter breath than any bee
Sucks from the heart of any flower;
    Ah, bosom like the Summer sea!

A fairy creature made of dew
    And moonrise and the songs of birds,
And laughter like the running brook,
    And little soft, heart-broken words.

Haunted as marble in the moon,
    Her whiteness lies on young love's breast.
And living frankincense and myrrh
    Her lips that on his lips are pressed.

Her eyes are lost within his eyes,
    His eyes in hers are fathoms deep;
Death is not stiller than these twain
    That smile as in a magic...

Richard Le Gallienne

Song.

'Tis not the beam of her bright blue eye,
Nor the smile of her lip of rosy dye,
Nor the dark brown wreaths of her glossy hair,
Nor her changing cheek, so rich and rare.
Oh! these are the sweets of a fairy dream,
The changing hues of an April sky.
They fade like dew in the morning beam,
Or the passing zephyr's odour'd sigh.

'Tis a dearer spell that bids me kneel,
'Tis the heart to love, and the soul to feel:
'Tis the mind of light, and the spirit free,
And the bosom that heaves alone for me.
Oh! these are the sweets that kindly stay
From youth's gay morning to age's night;
When beauty's rainbow tints decay,
Love's torch still burns with a holy light.

Soon will the bloom of the fairest fade,
And love will droop in the cheerless shade,
Or if...

Joseph Rodman Drake

With Some Old Love Verses

Dear Heart, this is my book of boyish song,
The changing story of the wandering quest
That found at last its ending in thy breast -
The love it sought and sang astray so long
With wild young heart and happy eager tongue.
Much meant it all to me to seek and sing,
Ah, Love, but how much more to-day to bring
This 'rhyme that first of all he made when young.'

Take it and love it, 'tis the prophecy
For whose poor silver thou hast given me gold;
Yea! those old faces for an hour seemed fair
Only because some hints of Thee they were:
Judge then, if I so loved weak types of old,
How good, dear Heart, the perfect gift of Thee.

Richard Le Gallienne

The American Girls.

Yes! The land we love
Is a land of pretty girls,
In grand variety;
With their many colored eyes
And their multi-colored curls,
They'll steal thy heart from thee.

If you travel in the North,
One will gleam in glory forth,
With her blue eyes, O, so blue!
And her flash of golden hair
Will be flirting in the air,
While entrancing all the soul in you.
Oho! My Boy! Oho!

Always for your weal and never for your woe,
Your little heart will gallop on the go,
And it will not give you rest
Within your manly breast,
Till you land yourself in toto at her toe.
Oho! My Boy! Oho!

If you travel in the South,
You will find a rosy mouth,
And a black eye, O so black!
And some strands of raven hair
Will purloin your heart just th...

A. H. Laidlaw