Poetry: She Walks in Beauty, Lord Byron. 1788–1824

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
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.

I had this read to me by a very special human being whilst high up in the Andes mountains. It moved me beyond words. The person, the poem and the love. I've heard that Lord Byron wrote this after meeting his young cousin at the funeral of her husband. They say he fell in love with her on sight and this poem was about that moment.