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 mellowed to that tender light
 Which Heaven to gaudy day denies.

 One shade the more, one ray the less,
 Had half impaired 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 dwelling-place.

 And on that cheek, and o'er tnat brow,
 So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
 The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
 But tell of days in goodness splent,
 mind at peace with all belove,
 heart whose love innocent!