blue eyes or dark?

"Seldom yet have I known such blue eyes as hers, that were not docile, and would not follow a bold black one, as two meek blue-ribboned ewes, follow their martial leader. How glad am I that Pierre loves her so, and not some dark-eyed haughtiness..." 

-- Pierre; Or, The Ambiguities (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1852) page 24.

"Wondrous fair of face, blue-eyed, and golden-haired, the bright blonde, Lucy, was arrayed in colors harmonious with the heavens. Light blue be thy perpetual color, Lucy; light blue becomes thee best—such the repeated azure counsel of Lucy Tartan's mother."  (Pierre, 1852)

 "... in Lucy's eyes, there seemed to shine all the blue glory of the general day, and all the sweet inscrutableness of the sky. And certainly, the blue eye of woman, like the sea, is not uninfluenced by the atmosphere. Only in the open air of some divinest, summer day, will you see its ultramarine,—its fluid lapis lazuli."  (Pierre, 1852)

 "For an instant, the fond, all-understood blue eyes of Lucy displaced the as tender, but mournful and inscrutable dark glance of Isabel."  (Pierre, 1852)

"Look: see these eyes,—this hair—nay, this cheek;—all dark, dark, dark,—and she—the blue-eyed—the fair-haired—oh, once the red-cheeked!" (Pierre, 1852)

"She tossed her ebon tresses over her; she fixed her ebon eyes on him."  (Pierre, 1852)

"Say, Pierre; doth not a funerealness invest me? Was ever hearse so plumed?—Oh, God! that I had been born with blue eyes, and fair hair! Those make the livery of heaven! Heard ye ever yet of a good angel with dark eyes, Pierre?—no, no, no—all blue, blue, blue—heaven's own blue—the clear, vivid, unspeakable blue, which we see in June skies, when all clouds are swept by."   (Pierre, 1852)

From Scenes Beyond the Western Border in the Southern Literary Messenger, May 1853:

Yet lovely in your strength, as is the light
Of a dark eye in woman! Far along,
From peak to peak, the rattling crags among
Leaps the live thunder! [quoting Byron]

F.—"The storm passes.  "That 'dark eye in woman,' introduced with such beautiful expression, but with all a poet's audacity, to illustrate an Alpine storm, pleases you, does it not?"

C.—" Can you condemn it? I love storms, but not those that gather in woman's eyes; they are fearful. Be assured, black eyes in woman never charmed me yet; their brilliancy seems to extinguish expression; or their dark colour to veil it."

F.—"Well, that's a novel theory: but what then do you like?"

C.—" Blue, in man or woman! But there is a rare kind—the loveliest and most expressive of all—which are changeable from grey to blue, as intellect or love for the time predominates."  Scenes Beyond the Western Border May 1853

UPDATE
 revised as follows in Scenes and Adventures in the Army:

My Friend and I rode together, and had much wonder and admiration to express upon our night adventure,—our happy fortune to witness so much beauty and sublimity. I remembered then, his omission of "the light of a dark eye in woman," in the only quotation of poetry I had ever heard him make. He said it was introduced with beautiful expression, but all the poet's audacity, to illustrate an Alpine storm. "Does it please you?" I love storms, I said, but not those that gather in woman's eyes; they are fearful, and so must have strength, if not loveliness; if, by dark, he mean black, their light is seldom pleasing to me; their brilliancy seems to extinguish expressions,—or, their color to veil it.

Friend.—Well, that's a novel theory; what do you like?

"Blue !—in man or woman. But there is a rare kind —the loveliest and most expressive of all—which are changeable, from gray to blue, as intellect or love for the time prevails—the beaming mirrors of a lovely soul!"