The whole world fights her battles, while she lies
Sunned in the fervour of young Paris' eyes.
ON THE ISLE OF RHODES
The battles ended, ardent Paris dead,
Of faithful Menelaus long bereft,
Time is the only suitor who is left:
Helen survives, with youth and beauty fled.
By hate remembered, but by love forgot,
Dethroned and driven from her high estate,
Unhappy Helen feels the lash of Fate
And knows at last an unloved woman's lot.
The Grecian marvel, and the Trojan joy,
The world's fair wonder, from her palace flies
The furies follow, and great Helen dies,
A death of horror, for the pride of Troy.
* * *
Yet Time, like Menelaus, all forgives.
Helen, immortal in her beauty, lives.
LAIS WHEN YOUNG
Lais when young, and all her charms in flower,
Lais, whose beauty was the fateful light
That led great ships to anchor in the night
And bring their priceless cargoes to her bower,
Lais yet found her cup of sweet turned sour.
Great Plato's pupil, from his lofty height,
Zenocrates, unmoved, had seen the white
Sweet wonder of her, and defied her power.
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