スフィンクス
[画像・mythic]she walks in beauty, like the nightof cloudless climes and starry skies;and all that 's best of dark and brightmeet in her aspect and her eyes:thus mellow'd to that tender lightwhich heaven to gaudy day denies.one shade the more, one ray the less,had half impair'd the nameless gracewhich waves in every raven tress,or softly lightens o'er her face;where thoughts serenely sweet expresshow 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! ー byroni love the thought of those huge paws padding through the spring night air, moonlit and fragrant with white magnolias.never was a fan of byron. but as i scrambled past her, running late (as usual), his words floated through my mind. couldn't even place him at first. keats? shelley? one of those guys. byron? surprised myself when i finally figured it out in the elevator. byron. what are you doing in there? the nameless grace which waves in every raven tressyou see? really not my style. but for various reasons that i'm too lazy to articulate, her monstrous beauty seems to transform his breastbeating. tamed. the perfect sly smile: omnicient.