George Gordon Byron

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

George Gordon Byron Poems

281. The Tear 1/1/2004
282. Love's Last Adieu 1/1/2004
283. Remember Him, Whom Passion's Power 1/1/2004
284. The Destruction Of Sennacherib 1/1/2004
285. I Would I Were A Careless Child 1/1/2004
286. And Wilt Thou Weep When I Am Low? 3/24/2010
287. Don Juan: Canto The First 1/1/2004
288. My Soul Is Dark 1/1/2004
289. It Is The Hour 1/1/2004
290. Solitude 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 M

Oh! did those eyes, instead of fire,
With bright, but mild affection shine:
Though they might kindle less desire,
Love, more than mortal, would be thine.

For thou art form'd so heavenly fair,
Howe'er those orbs may wildly beam,
We must admire, but still despair;
That fatal glance forbids esteem.

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