--by Lord Byron

　　She walks in beauty, like the night

　　Of cloudless climes and starry¹ 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 gaudy² day denies.

　　One shade the more, one ray the less,

　　Had half impair'd the nameless grace

　　Which waves in every raven³ tress,

　　Or softly lightens o'er her face;

　　Where thoughts serenely⁴ sweet express

　　How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

　　And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,

　　So soft, so calm, yet eloquent⁵,

　　The smiles that win. the tints⁶ that glow,

　　But tell of days in goodness spent,

　　A mind at peace with all below,

　　A heart whose love is innocent!