24 lines
773 B
Plaintext
24 lines
773 B
Plaintext
1831
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TO HELEN
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by Edgar Allan Poe
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Helen, thy beauty is to me
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Like those Nicean barks of yore,
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That gently, o'er a perfumed sea,
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The weary, wayworn wanderer bore
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To his own native shore.
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On desperate seas long wont to roam,
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Thy hyacinth hair, thy classic face,
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Thy Naiad airs have brought me home
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To the glory that was Greece
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And the grandeur that was Rome.
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Lo! in yon brilliant window-niche
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How statue-like I see thee stand,
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The agate lamp within thy hand!
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Ah, Psyche, from the regions which
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Are Holy Land!
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-THE END-
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