To Helen—Allan Poe

It was a july midnight; and from out

A full-orbed moon, that, like thine own soul, soaring,

Sought a precipitate pathway up through heaven,

There fell a silvery-silken veil of light,

With quietude, and sultriness, and slumber,

Upon the upturn'd faces of a thousand

…

To breath the incense of those slumbering roses?

…

The pearly lustre of the moon went out:

…

How silently serene a sea of bride!

How daring an ambition! yet how deep—

How fathomless a capacity for love!

…

They fill my soul with Beauty(which is Hope,)

And are far up in Heaven—the stars I kneel to

In the sad, silent watches of my night;

While even in the meridian glare of day

I see them still—two sweetly scintillant

Venuses, unextinguished by the sun!