Edgar Allen Poe
To Helen

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Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? | Come live with me and be my Love | O my Luve's like a red, red rose
She walks in beauty, like the night | Gather ye rosebuds while ye may | How do I love thee ? Let me count the ways

Helen, thy beauty is to me
Like those Nicean barks of yore,
That gently, o'er a perfumed sea,
The weary, wayworn wanderer bore
To his own native shore.

On desperate seas long wont to roam,
Thy hyacinth hair, thy classic face,
Thy Naiad airs have brought me home
To the glory that was Greece
And the grandeur that was Rome.