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Text: Edgar Allan Poe, "To Helen," Southern Literary Messenger, March 1836, 2:238, col. 1

[page 238, column 1:]


Helen, thy beauty is to me
   Like those Nicean barks of yore,
That gently, o’er a perfum’d 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 beauty of fair Greece,
And the grandeur of old Rome.

Lo! in that little window-niche
   How statue-like I see thee stand!
   The folded scroll within thy hand —
Ah! Psyche from the regions which
   Are Holy land!



[S:1 - SLM, 1836] - Edgar Allan Poe Society of Baltimore - Works - Poems - To Helen (B)