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Read more poems by Edgar Allan Poe: Edgar Allan Poe Poems at Poetry X.

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 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!

Added: 8 Sep 2001 | Last Read: 24 May 2012 12:04 PM | Viewed: 13956 times

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