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 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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