Eyen

While flashing beams do daze his feeble eyen.

But well are thine eyen set in thy head, wide apart, well opened, […]

Yea, ’t is true; I ’d know thee by thine eyen, that are gray, and thoughtful, and dark with a something that lies behind the colour of them,—and shining by the light of a lamp lit somewhere within.

Sweet and benign mediatrix, / Thine eyen of grace on us thou cast, / Since thou art queen of paradise, / And let not our hope be in waste, / But show us thy Son at the last, / Since we do sing and say to thee, ‘Maria, spes nostra, salue.’