Classic Poem

Who hears of Helen's Tower, may dream perchance
How the Greek beauty from the Scaean gate
Gazed on old friends unanimous in hate,
Death-doomed because of her fair countenance.

Hearts would leap otherwise at thy advance,
Lady, to whom this Tower is consecrate!
Like hers, thy face once made all eyes elate,
Yet, unlike hers, was blessed by every glance.

The Tower of Hate is outworn, far and strange:
A transitory shame of long ago,
It dies into the sand from which it sprang;
But thine, Love's rock-built Tower, shall fear no change;
God's self laid stable earth's foundations so,
When all the morning stars together sang.