• I saw thee once - once only - years ago:
    I must not say how many - but not many.
    It was a July midnight; and from out
    A full-orbed moon, that, like thine own soul, soaring,
    Sought a precipitate pathway up through heaven,
    There fell a silvery-silken veil of light,
    With quietude, and sultriness, and slumber,
    Upon the upturned faces of a thousand
    ...

  • Helen, thy beauty is to me
      Like those Nicæan barks of yore,
    That gently, o’er a perfumed sea,
      The weary, wayworn 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...

  • Helen, thy beauty is to me
      Like those Nicæan barks of yore,
    That gently, o’er a perfumed sea,
      The weary, wayworn 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...