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to Helen Posté le Jeudi 4 Décembre 2008 à 20h57

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 wandered 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 see thee stand,

The agate lamp within thy hand!

Ah, Psyche, from the regions which

Are Holy Land!


Allan Edgar Poe


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