... have come from us? Yes, yes, she did.
| 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! |
1 comment:
Amen
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