2nd
she walks in beauty
One day when I was fifteen waiting outside the gym for the bell to ring, a few friends and I were laughing that our mutual friend had asked out his girlfriend by passing her a note during English. Later that day, Taylor and Jesse, the friends I was laughing with handed me a photo copy of Jesse’s hand and pasted inside was the following:
She Walks in Beauty
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
meets in her aspect and her eyes
thus mellow’d to that tender light
which heaven to godly 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, so eloquent
the smiles that win, the tints that glow
but tell of days of goodness spent—
a mind at peace with all below
a heart that’s love is innocent
will you go out with me?
I still have that piece of paper and still have half the poem memorized. It’s odd to me that such a silly and somewhat meaningless event has become such a vivid memory.
