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 mellow'd to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
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,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!
Gordon, Lord Byron, 1814
To continue spoiling you, here is a shadowbox of your
favorite things and a graphic webset made especially for
has been wonderful getting to know you by visiting your
site and being able to make this page as your Secret Diva.
Lots of hugs!
You are listening to
from the opera "Turandot"
by Giacomo Puccini