Songtexte She Walks in Beauty - 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!
 
                                    
                                 
                            1 Darkness
2 So We'll Go No More a Roving - Moon
3 When We Two Parted
4 She Walks in Beauty
5 Lord Byron - An Introduction
6 The Devil's Drive - an Unfinished Rhapsody
7 For Music
8 Stanzas for Music
9 The Destruction of Sennacherib
10 The Dark Blue Sea
11 Sonnet to Lake Leman
12 Written After Swimming from Sestos to Abydos
13 The Isles of Greece
14 Lachin y Gair
15 There Is a Pleasure in the Pathless Woods
16 Cricket at Harrow
17 The Prisoner of Chillon
18 Advice to a Girl
19 I Would to Heaven That I Was so Much Clay
20 A Riddle on the Letter E
21 On My Thirty Third Birthday, January 22nd 1821
22 The Vampyre
23 John Keats
24 I Speak Not, I Trace Not, I Breathe Not Thy Name
25 To a Lady Who Presented to the Author a Lock of Hair Braided with His Own and Appointed a Night in December to Meet Him in the Garden
26 Remember Thee! Remember Thee!
27 The Tear
28 The First Kiss Love
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