Fringilla: Some Tales In Verse | Page 7

hung,
And Fuchsia's sunny
chandlery,
And coral tongue;
And where the shy brook fluttered through,
Nepenthe held her chalice
leaf
(Undrained as yet by human grief),
And broad Nymphaea
grew.
IX
But where the path bent towards the wood,
Across it hung a sombre
screen,
The deadly night-shade, leaden-hued;
And there behind it,
darkly seen,
A Being stood:
The form, if any form it had,
Was likest to a nightly vision
In
mantle of amazement clad,
A terror-sense, without precision,
Of
something bad.
A tremble chilled the forest shade,
A roving lion turned and fled,

The birds cowered home in hush of dread;
But Eve was not afraid.
X
She stood before him, sweetly bold,
To keep him from her garden
shrine,
With hair that fell, a shower of gold,
Around her figure's
snowy line
And rosy mould:
He (with a re-awakened sense
Of goodness, long for ever lost,
And
angel beauty's pure defence)
Shrank back, unable to accost
Such
innocence:
But envy soon scoffed down his shame;
And with a smile, designed
for fawning,
But like hell's daybreak sickly dawning,
His crafty
accents came.
XI

"Sweet ignorance, 'tis sad and hard
To break thy fond confiding spell;

And my soft heart hath such regard
For thine, that I will never tell

What may be spared."
He turned aside, o'erwhelmed with pain,
And drew a sigh of deep
compassion:
She trembled, flushed, and gazed again,
And prayed
him quick, in woman's fashion,
To speak it plain:
"Then, if thou must be taught to grieve,
And scorn the guile thou hast
adored--
The man who calls himself thy lord,
Where goes he, every
eve?"
XII
"Nay, then," she cried, "if that be all,
I care not what thou hast to say;

The guile that lurks therein is small--
My husband but retires to
pray,
At evening call."
"To pray? Oh yes, and on his knees
May-hap to find a lovely being:

Devotions so devout as these
Are best at night, with no one seeing,

Among the trees."
She blushed as deep as modesty,
Then glancing back as bright as
cride,
"What woman can he find,' she cried,
"In all the world, but
me?"
XIII
He laughed with a superior sneer,
Enough to shake e'en woman's faith;

"Wilt thou believe me, simple dear,
If I am able now," he saith,

"To show her here?"
She cried aloud with gladsome heart,
"Be that the test whereon to try
thee;
Nature and heaven shall take my part:
Come, show this rival; I
defy thee
And all thy art."

A mirror, held in readiness,
He set upright before her feet--
"Now
can thy simple charms compete
With beauty such as this?"
XIV
A lovelier sight therein she saw
Than ever yet had charmed her eyes,

A fairer picture, void of flaw,
Than any, even Paradise
Itself,
could draw;
A woman's form of perfect grace,
In shadowy softness delicate;

Though flushed by sunset's rich embrace,
A white rose could not
imitate
Her innocent face:
Then, through the deepening glance of fear,
The shaft of doubt came
quivering,
The sorrow-shaft--a sigh its wing,
And for its barb a tear.
XV
"Ah me!" she cried, "too true it is!
A simple homely thing, like Eve,

Hath not a chance to rival this,
But must resign herself to grieve

O'er by-gone bliss.
"Till now it was enough for me
To be what God our Father made;

Oh, Adam, I was proud to be
(As I have felt, and thou hast said)
A
part of thee.
"No marvel that my lord can spare
His true and heaven-appointed
bride.
And yet affection might have tried
To fancy me as fair."
XVI
The Tempter, glorying in his wile,
Hath ta'en his mirror and
withdrawn;
Again the flowers look up and smile,
And brightens off
from air and lawn
The taint of guile.
But smiles come not again to Eve,
Nor brightens off her dark

reflection:
Her garland-crown she hath ceased to weave,
And,
plucking, maketh no selection;
Only to grieve.
She feels a dewy radiance steep
The languid petals of her eyes,
And
hath another sad surprise,
To know the way to weep,
PART II
The tears were still in woman's eyes,
When morn awoke on Paradise;

And still her sense of shame forbade
To tell her grievance, or
upbraid;
Nor knew she which was dearer cost,
To seek him, or to
shun him most
Then Adam, willing to believe
A heart by casual
fancy moved
Would soon come back, at voice she loved,
Addressed
his song to Eve.
I
"Come fairest, while the morn is fair,
And dews are bright as yon
clear eyes;
Calm down this tide of troubled hair,
Forget with me all
other sighs
Than summer air.
"Like me, the woodland shadows roam
At light (their fairer
comrade's) side;
And peace and joy salute our home;
And lo, the
sun in all his pride--
My sunshine, come!
"The fawns and birds, that know our call,
Are waiting for our
presence--see,
They wait my presence, love; and thee,
The most
desired of all.
II
"The trees, which thought it grievous thing
To weep their own sweet
leaves away,
Untaught as yet how soon the Spring
Upon their
nestled heads should lay
Her callow wing--
"The trees, whereat we smiled again,
To see them, in their growing

wonder,
Suppose their buds were verdant rain,
Until the gay winds
rustled under
Their feathered train,
"Lo, now they stand in braver mien,
And, claiming stronger
shadow-right,
Make prisoner of the intrusive light,
And strew the
winds with green.
III
"Of