"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 impair'd 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!"
One of the romantic poems I wrote, one of my greatest romantic pieces. I wrote it in 1814 about Mrs. Anne Beatrix Wilmot. She caught my eye one night at a ball. And I had to write a poem about her beauty.
Byron, Lord. "600. She Walks in Beauty ." Bartleby.com. N.p., 1814. Web. 22 Mar 2011. <http://www.bartleby.com/101/600.html>.
How romantic indeed, Lord Byron. Your proclamation of sweet love for the young lady is unmistakable from that of a more lustful approach, I am sure. No doubt your late wife would be your intentions presumably, however, I cannot express your true intentions...perhaps to court and woe other naive women into believing such free-willed innocence?
ReplyDeleteThis is a beautiful peom. You are in fact a very wonderful romantic. I am looking forward to learnig more about you.
ReplyDeleteBeauty catches my eye, what can I say?
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