As the youthful Paris presses
Helen to his ivory breast,
Sporting with her golden tresses,
Close and ever closer pressed,

"Let me," said he, "quaff the nectar,
"Which thy lips of ruby yield;
Glory I can leave to Hector,
Gathered in the tented field.

"Let me ever gaze upon thee,
Look into thine eyes so deep;
With a daring hand I won thee,
With a faithful heart I'll keep.

"Oh, my Helen, thou bright wonder,
Who was ever like to thee?
Jove would lay aside his thunder,
So he might be blest like me.

"How mine eyes so fondly linger
On thy soft and pearly skin;
Scan each round and rosy finger,
Drinking draughts of beauty in!

"Tell me, whence thy beauty, fairest?
Whence thy cheek's enchanting bloom?
Whence the rosy hue thou wearest,
Breathing round thee rich perfume?"

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 enclosed in yonder casket—
Here behold its golden key;
But its name—love, do not ask it,
Tell't I may not, even 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!