She walks in beauty like the night <br />of cloudless climes and starry skies; <br />And all that's best of dark and bright <br />meets in her aspect and her eyes: <br />Thus mellow'd to that tender light <br />which heaven to gaudy day denies. <br /> <br />One shade the more, one ray the less, <br />had half impair'd the nameless grace <br />which waves in every raven tress, <br />or softly lightens o'er her face - <br />where thoughts serenely sweet express <br />how pure, how dear their dwelling - place. <br /> <br />And on that cheek, and o'er that brow, <br />so soft, so calm, yet eloquent, <br />the smiles that win, the tints that glow, <br />but tells in days of goodness spent, <br />a mind at peace with all below, <br />a heart whose love is innocent.<br /><br />George Gordon Byron<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/she-walks-in-beauty/
