In the high songs the olden minstrels sing!
Who hears those voices e’en but for a day,
The sound remains a part of him alway:
Penelope the constant; Hero sweet;
Briseis weeping at Achilles’ feet;
Andromeda by wingèd Perseus found—
Bright blossom to the sea-girt rock fast bound;
The Lesbian queen of song, but passion’s slave,
Who quenched her burning torch beneath the wave;
Helen, whose beauty, like a fatal brand,