Thus he spoke, with heart that panted,
Clasped her fondly to his side,
Gazed on her with look enchanted,
While his Helen thus replied:
"Be no discord, love, between us,
If I not the secret tell!
'Twas a gift I had of Venus,—
Venus who hath loved me well.
"And she told me as she gave it,
'Let not e'er the charm be known,
O'er thy person freely lave it,
Only when thou art alone.'
"'Tis inclosed in yonder casket—
Here behold its golden key;
But its name—love, do not ask it,
Tell't I may not, e'en to thee!"
Long with vow and kiss he plied her,
Still the secret did she keep,
Till at length he sank beside her,
Seemed as he had dropped to sleep.
Soon was Helen laid in slumber,
When her Paris, rising slow,
Did his fair neck disencumber
From her rounded arms of snow;
Then her heedless fingers oping,
Takes the key and steals away,
To the ebon table groping,
Where the wondrous casket lay;
Eagerly the lid uncloses,
Sees within it, laid aslope,
Pear's Liquid Bloom of Roses,
Cakes of his Transparent Soap!