Shewalks in Beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies;And all that’s best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes:Thus mellowed to that tender light Which Heaven to gaudy day denies.

Oneshade the more, one ray the less, Had half impaired the nameless graceWhich waves in every raven tress, Or softly lightens o’er her face;Where thoughts serenely sweet
express,
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

Andon that cheek, and o’er that brow, So soft, so calm, yet eloquent, Thesmiles that win, the tints that glow, But tell of days in goodnessspent, A mind at peace with all below, A heart whose love is innocent!

Helen,thy beauty is to me Like those Nicean barks of yore, That gently, o’er aperfumed sea, The weary, wayworn wanderer bore To his own native shore.

Ondesperate 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 thegrandeur that was Rome.

Lo! in yon brilliant window-niche Howstatue-like I see thee stand, The agate lamp within thy hand! Ah,Psyche, from the regions which Are Holy Land!