HENRIETTA CORDELIA RAY

"The Venus of Milo"

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O peerless marble marvel! what of grace,

Or matchless symmetry is not enshrined

In thy rare contours! Could we hope to find

The regal dignity of that fair face

In aught less beautiful? We would retrace,

At sight of thee, our willing steps where wind

The paths great Homer trod. Within whose mind

Wast thou a dream, O Goddess? Nearer pace

Brave Hector, reckless Paris, as we gaze;

Then stately temples, fluted colonnades

Rise in their sculptured beauty. Yes! ’tis Greece,

With all the splendor of her lordliest days,

That comes to haunt us: ere the glory fades

Let Fancy bid the rapture never cease.