EVE 



VE, with her basket, was 

 Deep in the bells and grass, 

 ' Wading in bells and grass 

 Up to her knees, 

 Picking a dish of sweet 

 Berries and plums to eat, 

 Down in the bells and grass 

 Under the trees. 



Mute as a mouse in a 

 Comer the cobra lay. 

 Curled round the bough of the 

 Cinnamon tall . . . 

 Now to get even and 

 Humble proud heaven and 

 Now was the moment or 

 Never at all. 



' Eva ! ' Each syllable 

 Light as a flower fell, 

 ' Eva ! ' he whispered the 

 Wondering maid. 

 Soft as a bubble sung 

 Out of a Unnet's lung, 

 Soft and most silverly 

 ' Eva ! ' he said. 



Picture that orchard sprite, 

 Eve, with her body white. 

 Supple and smooth to her 



37 



