Many faces of Methos
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George Gordon, Lord Byron

Percy Bysshe Shelley

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Great drama

George Gordon, Lord Byron

"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:
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 trees,
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!

"Childe Harold's Pilgrimage" (Canto IV, v. 185)

My task is done — my song hath ceased — my theme
Has died into an echo; it is fit
The spell should break of this protracted dream
The torch shall be extinguish'd which hath lit
My midnight lamp — and what is writ, is writ
Would it were worthier! but I am not now
That which I have been — and my visions flit
Less palpably before me — and the glow
Which in my spirit dwelt, is fluttering, faint, and low.

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