BY LORD BYRON
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!
Swoon. "The smiles that win." I definitely wouldn't hate it if someone were to write a similar poem about me.
My favorite thing about this poem, however, is part of an analysis I read online, "It is an astonishingly chaste poem given its author’s reputation for licentiousness, lust, and debauchery." We praise and celebrate his poetry even today, but Lord Byron was kind of a bad dude. Affairs and scandals haunted his life including adultery, violence, and incest. My point is that celebrity worship is not new. The rich and famous can get away with all sorts of things (Biebs - I'm looking at you), and they always have.
My favorite thing about this poem, however, is part of an analysis I read online, "It is an astonishingly chaste poem given its author’s reputation for licentiousness, lust, and debauchery." We praise and celebrate his poetry even today, but Lord Byron was kind of a bad dude. Affairs and scandals haunted his life including adultery, violence, and incest. My point is that celebrity worship is not new. The rich and famous can get away with all sorts of things (Biebs - I'm looking at you), and they always have.
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