She walks in beauty in day or night
under Golden Sun or Star light
the whole world consumed in her large eyes
that makes men souls quake at the sight
Byron erred in says day reveals too much
And all night kisses
not enough
her grace disguised
in the deep of dark
where I am to ponder
to enjoy and enjoy the lark
her face glowing pleasant under the pale of moon
but most potent at
the height of noon
what truth can we get from her face by light
we might perhaps miss in the depth of night
we can only guess her thoughts and might miss
the potency of what Byron sees as innocence
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