POEMS OLD AND NEW

One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impair'd 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, 10

A mind at peace with all below,

A heart whose love is innocent.

LORD BYRON

TO NIGHT
SWIFTLY walk over the western wave,
Spirit of Night !
Out of the misty eastern cave.
Where, all the long and lone daylight,
Thou wovest dreams of joy and fear
Which make thee terrible and dear,—
Swift be thy flight !
Wrap thy form in a mantle grey, 20
Star-inwrought !
Blind with thine hair the eyes of Day,
Kiss her until she be wearied out,
Then wander o'er city, and sea, and land,
Touching all with thine opiate wand—
Come, long-sought !
When I arose and saw the dawn,
I sigh'd for thee ;
When light rode high, and the dew was gone,
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