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O let the organ, many-voiced, sing boldly,
O let it roar like spring's first thunderstorm!
My half-closed eyes over your young bride's shoulder
Will meet your eyes just once and then no more.
--
Translated by Irina Zheleznova

 

Anna Akhmatova

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And storied windows richly dight,
Casting a dim religious light.
There let the pealing organ blow,
To the full-voiced choir below,
In service high, and anthems clear
As may, with sweetness, through mine ear
Dissolve me into ecstasies,
And bring all heaven before mine eyes.

 

John Milton

 

A distinct throat. Which breathes. A head: small, smaller than a flower. With eyes and with lips. Lips more slender than light; a smile how carefully and slowly made, a smile made entirely of dream. Eyes deeper than Spring. Eyes darker than Spring, more new . . . These, these are the further miracles . . . the breasts. Thighs. The All which is beyond comprehension — the All which is perpetually discovered, yet undiscovered: sexual, sweet, Alive!

 

E. E. Cummings

 

When you’re so lonely lying in bed,
Night’s closed it’s eyes but you can’t rest your head.
Everyone’s sleeping all through the house,
You wish you could dream but forgot to somehow.

Sing this lullaby to yourself.

 

Jack (musician) Johnson

 

She tended to keep her eyes half closed, as if full sight of the world’s absurdity might be too much to bear.

 

Joan Slonczewski

 

Eyes forward! Sing a paean to the light
That God gives us to net the distant stars
In eyes that once were blinded with black earth.
Man had no time for aught but toll, no space
For aught but war. Yet God, in His great love,
Has cleared our eyes and given a hint of Power.

 

Philip Jose Farmer