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!
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