She Walks In Beauty, Like The Night

She walks in beauty, through the night, Where stars like blossoms burn so bright, The hush of dusk upon her hair, A ghost of moonlight trailing there. She does not speak, yet all is said In how she lifts her dreaming head— A lily tall amid the gloom, A hush within the heart of bloom. The shadows bend to let her pass, She stirs the dew upon the grass, And in her eyes a world is spun, Of broken things made whole, begun. She walks in beauty, calm and wide, The ache of heaven at her side, A sorrow sweet as midnight air, And peace as deep as her despair— She walks, and none may follow there.