Poems (Katharine Elizabeth Howard)/To Helen
To Helen—
There's magic in thy name—
When I would write, the web of fancy
Encircles thee with necromancy—
Thy name embowers thee in wreathes
Of beauty—like thine amber hair.
Poets to thee have made many poems
From that far time when beauty
Drowned the memory of despair;
To one, Poe wrote to her of the "enchanted garden";
To thee, who wearest in thy name
The wreathes of many poets,
Could I say more than this—
To Helen?
There's magic in thy name—
When I would write, the web of fancy
Encircles thee with necromancy—
Thy name embowers thee in wreathes
Of beauty—like thine amber hair.
Poets to thee have made many poems
From that far time when beauty
Drowned the memory of despair;
To one, Poe wrote to her of the "enchanted garden";
To thee, who wearest in thy name
The wreathes of many poets,
Could I say more than this—
To Helen?