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.
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.
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!
