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- The Face of Helen
- by Christopher Marlowe
- Was this the face that launch'd a thousand ships,
- And burnt the topless towers of Ilium?
- Sweet Helen, make me immortal with a kiss.
- Her lips suck forth my soul: see, where it flies!
- Come, Helen, come, give me my soul again.
- Here will I dwell, for heaven is in these lips,
- And all is dross that is not Helena.
- I will be Paris, and for love of thee,
- Instead of Troy, shall Wittenberg be sack'd;
- And I will combat with weak Menelaus,
- And wear thy colours on my plumed crest;
- Yea, I will wound Achilles in the heel,
- And then return to Helen for a kiss.
- O, thou art fairer than the evening air
- Clad in the beauty of a thousand stars;
- Brighter art thou than flaming Jupiter
- When he appear'd to hapless Semele;
- More lovely than the monarch of the sky
- In wanton Arethusa's azur'd arms;
- And none but thou shalt be my paramour!
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