TO HELEN

HELEN, thy beauty is to me
Like those Nicean barks of yore,
That gently, o'er a perfumed sea,
The weary way-worn wanderer bore
To his own native shore.

On desperate seas long wont to roam,
Thy hyacinth hair, thy classic face,

Thy

Naiad airs have brought me home
To the glory that was Greece,

And the grandeur that was Rome.

Lo ! in yon brilliant window-niche
How statue-like I me thee stand,

The

agate lamp within thy hand!
Ah, Psyche, from the regions which
Are Holy-land !

This online collection of the Complete Works of Edgar Allan Poe is part of the digital book collection at Book-Lover.com