Page:The Happy Marriage and Other Poems.pdf/19

 Of radiance, more sense than thought, Like soundless music somehow caught Back of the brain, or some impress Of figures in a dream forgot— And there stands Helen—there's the face Young Marlowe saw past time and space And would have seen again and died; There, there the subtle breast, the side White as white water, there the grace Of queens and there the pride, the pride.

Helen, he said,—but was it she? Somewhere he'd seen serenity Drawn smooth as this across a flame As bright to hide, and brows that tame Eyes as unapt to secrecy,— Nay, he had known these eyes, this same Young breast, this throat.—There was a name—