Classic Poem

H ELEN , by many loved, and loving not,
Helen, whose smiles are ever cold and sweet,
Art thou an ancient queen whom Time forgot,
And Death paused not to greet?
Helen, perchance thy perfect beauty came,
An heritage to make the world more fair,
From one who lived in Troy, and bore thy name,
And had such red-gold hair.

Thine eyes are like deep sea-water at night,
Thy mouth is as a flower that fears the sun,—
Burned pale once long ago by too great light,
Its singing all is done.

Immortal as the marble maids of Greece
Thou goest on thy gracious way apart,
Thy lifted face for ever still with peace,—
Helen, without a heart.

And yet more fragile than an earth-born rose,
More fleeting and more fair and sweet than such,
Thou seemest when thy weary eyelids close,—
Helen, loved overmuch.