Was this the face that launched a thousand ships, And burnt the
topless towers of Ilium? Sweet Helen, make
me immortal with a kiss! Her lips suck forth
my soul: see, where it flies! Come Helen, come
give me my soul again. Here will I dwell,
for heaven be in these lips, And all is dross
that is not Helena. Christopher Marlowe c.1592 Doctor Faustus (published1604), act 5, sc.1.