XXVI
Destroyer of Ships, Men, Cities
To I. D.
Helen of Troy has sprung from Hell
To claim her ancient throne:
So we have bidden friends farewell
To follow her alone.
The Lady of the laurelled brow,
The Queen of pride and power,
Looks rather like a spirit now,
And rather like a flower.
Dark in her eyes the lamp of night
Burns with a secret flame,
Where shadows pass that have no sight,
And ghosts that have no name.
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