Moist with dew and honied wafters
Of a music sweet that slips,
Have you marked them, brimmed with laughter's
Song and sunshine to their tips,
Rose-buds whence the fragrance drips,—
Helen's lips?
He who sees her needs must love her:
But, beware! avoid love's dart!
He who loves her must discover
Nature overlooked one part,
In this masterpiece of art—
Helen's heart.
A CAMEO.
Why speak of Giamschid rubies
Whence rosy starlight drips?
I know a richer crimson,—
The ruby of her lips.
Why speak of pearls of Oman
That shells of ocean sheathe?
I know a purer nacre,—
The white pearls of her teeth.
Why tell me of the sapphires
That Kings and Khalifs prize?
I know a lovelier azure,—
The sapphires of her eyes.
Go search the far Earth over,
Go search the farthest sea,
You will not find a cameo
Like her God carved for me.