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She walks in beauty, like the night
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.
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.
She moves beautifully, like the night
Of clear skies and starry nights;
And the best of darkness and light
Are in her appearance and her eyes;
Softened to that gentle light
Which heaven denies to the bright day. One more shade, one less ray,
Would have ruined the indescribable grace
That flows in every dark lock of hair,
Or softly brightens her face;
Where sweet and calm thoughts show
How pure and cherished their home is.
One more shade, one less ray,
Would have ruined the indescribable grace
That flows in every dark lock of hair,
Or softly brightens her face;
Where sweet and calm thoughts show
How pure and cherished their home is.