Florence Peacock

“ I am Helen; where is Troy?
Do they deem that thus the story of my life will pass away?
Troy betrayed, and all who loved me slain upon that fatal day,
Shall but make the memory of me evermore with men to stay.
I am Helen; where is Troy?
Fools! to dream that time can ever make the tale of Troy grow old;
Buried now is every hero, and the grass green o'er the mould,
But of her they fought and died for, every age shall yet be told.
I am Helen; where is Troy? ”