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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 glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!
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En rolig sak om Byron – han gick på sin tid på samma college som Andy, Trinity, Cambridge. I reglementet stod att man inte fick lov att ha en hund i sina rum – så Byron skaffade sig en björn istället, för det stod ju ingenting i reglerna om att ha en björn som husdjur – som han hade högst upp i ett tornrum. Det är faktiskt sant.
Stories from the city, stories from the sea 