Dangerous To Know

She Walks in Beauty

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 mellow'd to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

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,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!

George Gordon, Lord Byron 1815

Byron wrote this when he was 27 years old, devastatingly handsome, and undeniably scandalous. He was famous for his affairs and eventually had to flee polite society. One of his discarded lovers called him "mad, bad and dangerous to know." Well, if he was going to write stuff like this, one can certainly see why women threw themselves at him like moths to a flame.

It works.