| 
by Lord Byron 
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 | 
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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! | 
Saturday, May 18, 2013
SHE walks in beauty
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