Explore "The Wingless Victory" by Hervey Allen on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Nike of Samothrace, / Thy godlike wings / Cleft windy space / Above the ships of kings, / Fain of thy lips, / By hope made glorious, / Time kissed thy grand, Greek face / Away from us.
Our Nike has no wings; / She has not known / Clean heights, and from her lips / Comes starvèd moan.
Mints lie that coin her grace, / And Time will hate her face, / For it has turned the world's hope / Into stone.