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ثعلب الصحراء
02-03-2000, 01:45 AM
1 She walks in beauty, like the night
2 Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
3 And all that's best of dark and bright
4 Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
5 Thus mellow'd to that tender light
6 Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

7 One shade the more, one ray the less,
8 Had half impair'd the nameless grace
9 Which waves in every raven tress,
10 Or softly lightens o'er her face;
11 Where thoughts serenely sweet express
12 How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

13 And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
14 So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
15 The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
16 But tell of days in goodness spent,
17 A mind at peace with all below,
18 A heart whose love is innocent!

GEORGE GORDON, LORD BYRON (1788-1824)
SHE WALKS IN BEAUTY


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Je pense donc je suis
--
No artificer makes the idea itself
PLATO