  Helen of Troy thy face was fair, And fair thy radiant golden hair, Thy form, in every molded part, But not thy false and fickle heart, Helen of Troy. Betrayed by Aphrodite's wiles, Oenone's life lost all its smiles, And tasted sorrow to the lees, When Paris sailed for sunset seas, Where reigned the queen of all the isles. Thy beauty, poignant as a dart, Drave god-like men to wild despair, And lit the skies with lurid glare But oh, thy false and fickle heart, Helen of Troy! |
|
