Helen of Troy
LXIII.

Andrew Lan

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And as the dying sunset through the rain

Will flush with rosy glow a mountain height,

Even so, at his last smile, a blush again

Pass'd over Helen's face, so changed and white;

And through her tears she smiled, his last delight,

The last of pleasant life he knew, for grey

The veil of darkness gather'd, and the night

Closed o'er his head, and Paris pass'd away.

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