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:
Bright Be The Place Of Thy Soul!
Bright be the place of thy soul!
No lovelier spirit than thine
E'er burst from its mortal control
In the orbs of the blessed to shine.
Childe Harold's Pilgrimage: A Romaunt. Canto Iv.
I stood in Venice, on the Bridge of Sighs;
A palace and a prison on each hand:
I saw from out the wave her structures rise
When We Two Parted
When we two parted
In silence and tears,
To sever for years,
And Wilt Thou Weep When I Am Low?
And wilt thou weep when I am low?
Sweet lady! speak those words again:
Yet if they grieve thee, say not so--
I would not give that bosom pain.
A Spirit Passed Before Me [from Job]
A spirit passed before me: I beheld
The face of immortality unveiled--
Deep sleep came down on every eye save mine--