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 mellow’d to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day
denies.
One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impair’d 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.
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!
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