CategoryGeorge Gordon Byron

SHE walks in beauty, like the nightOf cloudless climes and starry skies;And all that ‘s best of dark and brightMeet in her aspect and her eyes:Thus mellow’d to that tender lightWhich heaven to gaudy day denies.One shade the more, one ray the less,Had half impair’d the nameless graceWhich waves in every raven tress,Or softly lightens o’er her face;Where thoughts serenely...