Classic Poem

THE POWER OF BEAUTY:

Some sing of Thebes, and some destroy
In lofty numbers haughty Troy:
I mourn, alas! in plaintive strains,
My own captivity and chains.
No navy, rang'd in proud array,
No foot, no horseman, arm'd to slay,
My peace alarm! far other foes,
Far other hosts, create my woes;
Strange, dang'rous hosts! that ambush'd lie
In ev'ry bright love-darting eye;
Such as destroy when beauty arms
To conquer, dreadful in its charms!