To Helen

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

II 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.

III Lo! in yon brilliant window-niche How statue-like I see thee stand, The starlight through thy window rich, Great waves, in the confines of the land, And thou art both wild and grand.

• Dante Gabriel Rossetti