Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1900.djvu/835

 EDGAR ALLAN POE

1809-1849

694. To Helen

Helen, thy beauty is to me Like those Nicèan barks of yore That gently, o'er a perfumed sea, The weary way-worn 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!

695. Annabel Lee

It was many and many a year ago, In a kingdom by the sea, That a maiden there lived whom you may know By the name of Annabel Lee. And this maiden she lived with no other thought Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child In this kingdom by the sea: But we loved with a love that was more than love— I and my Annabel Lee, With a love that the wingèd seraphs of heaven Coveted her and me.