poniedziałek, 19 lutego 2018

LXXVII

She Walks in Beauty 

By Lord Byron (George Gordon)  

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!