She walks in beauty, like the night One shade the more, one ray the less, And on that cheek, and o'er that brow, George Gordon
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.
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 their dwelling place.
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!
I Have this Garden of Poems
at first and then carried away with my greenthumb i planted everything trees and more trees and shrubs and bamboos and vines and hanging plants almost everything and so the blooming flowers died and the grasses diminishing like some hair of this baldness but nothing is lost in this garden of poems the birds came and built their nests some are still coming every morning and then the chirping begins |
She walks in beauty
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment