SHE WALKS IN BEAUTY.

I.

She walks in Beauty, like the night
⁠Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
⁠Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellowed to that tender light
⁠Which Heaven to gaudy day denies.


II.

One shade the more, one ray the less,
⁠Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
⁠Or softly lightens o'er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express,
⁠How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.


III.

And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
⁠So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
⁠But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
⁠A heart whose love is innocent!

June 12, 1814

Lord Byron