SHE walks in beauty, like the night | |
Of cloudless climes and starry skies, | |
And all that's best of dark and bright | |
Meets in her aspect and her eyes; | |
Thus mellow'd to that tender light | 5 |
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, | 10 |
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, | 15 |
But tell of days in goodness spent,— | |
A mind at peace with all below, | |
A heart whose love is innocent. | |
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Baltimore Remembers Elizabeth Taylor with thanks to a Byron
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