Perrysburg journal. (Perrysburg, Wood Co., O. [Ohio]) 186?-1965, 1890-01-22
LOVES OF THE POETS.
At Their Head Stands whitc-Bosomcds
Azure Eyed Helen of Troy.

AT ThClr HEAD StHnua Wnltc-bOSOncGp
Azure Eyed Helen of Troy.
In q fair and far-off country, hidden to
none, though visited by few, dwell lit
tie band of lovely ladies, to whose youth
and radiance the poets have added the
crowning gift of Immortality. There
they live, with faint alluring smiles
that never fade; and at their head is
Helen of Troy, white-bosomed, azure
eyed, to whom men forgave all things
for her beauty's sake. There, too, is
Lesbia, fair and false; laughing at n
broken heart, but holding close and ten
derly the dead sparrow
That living, never strayed from her sweet
breast.
She kisses it's ruffied wings and weops,
she who had no tears to spare when
Catullus sung and sued. And there is
Myrto, beloved by Theocritus, her naked
feet cleaning like pearls, a bunch of
Coan rushes pressed in her rosy fingers;
and the nameless girl who held in check
Anacreon's wandering heart with the
magic of dimples, and parted lips, and
thin purple floating garments. With
these are later beauties: Fiammetta the
ruddy haired, whom death snatched from
Boccaccio's arms, and the gentle Cate
rina, raising those heavy-lidded eyes
that Camoens loved and lost; Petrarch's
Laura, robed in pale-green spotted with
violets, one golden curl escaping wan
tonly beneath her vail; the fair blue
| stocking, Leonora d'Este, pale as a rain
washed rose her dress in sweet disor-
der: and Beatrice, with the stiffness of
eternity in her brooding eyes. If we
listen, we hear the shrill laughter of
Mignonne, a child of fifteen summers,
mocking at Ronsard's wooing; or we
catch the gentler murmur of Highland
Mary's song. She bushes little, the
low-born lass, and sinks her graceful
head, as though abashed by the fame her
peasant lover brought her. Bare-footed,
yellow-haired, she passes swiftly by;
and with her, hand in hand, walks
Scotland's Queen, sad Jane Beaufort,
1.-The fairest younge foure" that ever
won the heart of royal captive and suf-
fered the martyrdom of love- England
sends to that far land Stella, with eyes
like stars, and a vail OF gossamer hid
ing her delicate beauty, and Celia, and
false Lucasta, and Castara, tantalizingly
discreet, in whose dimples Cupid is fain
to linger signing, exiled, poor frozen
| god, from the
Chaste nunnery of her breasts.
Sacharissa, too, stands near, with
shade of listlessness in her sweet eyes,
as though she wearied little of Master
Walters courtly strains. A withered rose
droops from her white fingers, preach
ing its mute sermon, and preaching it
all in vain; for rose and lady live for
ever, linked in each others fame. And
| by her side, casting her fragile loveli-
ness in the shade, is one of different
mold, q sumptuous smiling woman. on
whom Sacharissa's blue eyes fall with
soft disdain. We know this indolent
| beauty by the brave vibra tion of her tenn
pestuous silken robe, by the ruby carca-
net that clasps her throat, the rainbow
ribbon around her slender waist, the
| jewels wedged buckle-deep on every
tapering finger, and even-oh, vanity
of vanities!-on one small rosy thumb.
We know her by the scented beads
upon her arm, and by the sweet and
subtle odors of storax and spikenard and
galbanum that breathe softly forth from
her brocaded bodice, and from her hairs
dark meshes caught in golden net. 1t
is she to whom the glow-worms lent
their eyes, and the elves their wings,
and the stars their shooting fires, as she
wandered through the dewy woods to
meet her lovers steps. 1t is Herrick's
Julia whom we see so clearly through
the midst of centuries, that can not vail
nor dim the brightness of her presence