She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all thatâs best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes: Thus mellowâd to that tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies. One shade the more, one ray the less, Had half impairâd the nameless grace Which waves in every raven tress, Or softly lightens oâer her face; Where thoughts serenely sweet express How pure, how dear their dwelling-place. And on that cheek, and oâer 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!