Helen, thy beauty is to me Like those Nicean 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! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE MOTHER IN THE HOUSE by HERMANN HAGEDORN ECHOES: 9 by WILLIAM ERNEST HENLEY THE OLD CHURCHYARD OF BONCHURCH by PHILIP BOURKE MARSTON AT FREDERICKSBURG [DECEMBER 13, 1862] by JOHN BOYLE O'REILLY THE LIVING GOD by ABRAHAM IBN EZRA |