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!