I have always liked this poem…whoever She is, for one moment in time, she is very special indeed. It doesn’t really matter, that she wasn’t the only one (Lord Byron was a player), or maybe she is a combination of many…. Nevertheless there was a time when words truly sounded like music:
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.
So I happened to think of this poem now in a balmy evening in north Texas, where a lot of times in December it can be 60 or 70 something degrees allowing one to go out and look at the night sky without freezing to death…
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.
In pondering the night sky, it is sometimes nice to enjoy the peace and quiet and think upon the lives of poets and dreamers and allow yourself more freedom and flexibility than you had in English class to say or to feel what you really think and to just quiet simply enjoy the moment:
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!
Poetry worthy of dreaming upon…take care everybody!