Lord Byron

She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies
And all that's best of dark & bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes
There mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less
Would half impair that nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress
And gently lightens o'er her face
Where every thought serenely sweet express
How dear, how pure their dwelling place.

And on the cheek, and o'er that brow
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow
Yet tell of days in goodness spent
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart who's love is innocent.

...

I've know a woman or two I've wanted to say that to - but the occasion has never come up. :-)