And Helena skims by the rolling sand
And waves with the fleck of a foam-white hand.
And the blood of Youth pounds hot in the throat
As the long oars lash from the lunging boat.
Richly she came through the leaping green,
Like the shrine of a god, like a sun first seen,
And they cried “Hurrah for the Golden Queen!”
The white sails soar like a rising gull,
The water spins by the speeding hull.
She smiles with her chin cupped into her hand