George Gordon Byron

[Lord Byron] (22 January 1788 – 19 April 1824 / London, England)

George Gordon Byron Poems

281. Love's Last Adieu 1/1/2004
282. Remember Him, Whom Passion's Power 1/1/2004
283. The Destruction Of Sennacherib 1/1/2004
284. Don Juan: Canto The First 1/1/2004
285. Solitude 1/1/2004
286. I Would I Were A Careless Child 1/1/2004
287. The Dream 1/1/2004
288. It Is The Hour 1/1/2004
289. And Wilt Thou Weep When I Am Low? 3/24/2010
290. My Soul Is Dark 1/1/2004
291. To Caroline 1/1/2004
292. I Speak Not, I Trace Not, I Breathe Not Thy Name 3/24/2010
293. Darkness 3/24/2010
294. So We'Ll Go No More A-Roving 1/1/2004
295. There Is Pleasure In The Pathless Woods 3/25/2010
296. When We Two Parted 1/1/2004
297. She Walks In Beauty 3/24/2010
Best Poem of George Gordon Byron

She Walks In Beauty

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 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 ...

Read the full of She Walks In Beauty

To Eliza

Eliza, what fools are the Mussulman sect,
Who to woman deny the soul's future existence!
Could they see thee, Eliza, they'd own their defect,
And this doctrine would meet with a general resistance.

Had their prophet possess'd half an atom of sense,
He ne'er would have woman from paradise driven;
Instead of his houris, a flimsy pretence,
With woman alone he had peopled his heaven.

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