She Walks in Beauty
19 November 2007
Today I’m digging Lord Byron’s famous love poem, “She Walks in Beauty”. Byron, we remember, was the only member of the Houses of Parliament to stand up against the frame-breaker’s bill, which made being a Luddite - ie, smashing up the new machines, into a capital offence. Love and freedom, then, were his passions.
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!











"I do nothing and then I do something. But it's taken years of investigating idleness in all its forms to be able to achieve this. My discipline is borne out of concerted study of idleness."