She walks in beauty like the night by Francis T. Palgrave (1824–1897)

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.

Angeliki KapoglouComment