I sent a ring—a little band <br />Of emerald and ruby stone, <br />And bade it, sparkling on thy hand, <br />Tell thee sweet tales of one <br />Whose constant memory <br />Was full of loveliness, and thee. <br /> <br />A shell was graven on its gold,— <br />'Twas Cupid fix'd without his wings— <br />To Helene once it would have told <br />More than was ever told by rings: <br />But now all 's past and gone, <br />Her love is buried with that stone. <br /> <br />Thou shalt not see the tears that start <br />From eyes by thoughts like these beguiled; <br />Thou shalt not know the beating heart, <br />Ever a victim and a child: <br />Yet Helene, love, believe <br />The heart that never could deceive. <br /> <br />I'll hear thy voice of melody <br />In the sweet whispers of the air; <br />I'll see the brightness of thine eye <br />In the blue evening's dewy star; <br />In crystal streams thy purity; <br />And look on Heaven to look on thee.<br /><br />George Darley<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-helene/
