nisters,
What hath he now but fiends devouring;
Instead of grapes and melons, burs;
In lieu of manna, crab and souring--
By whose fault? Hers!

Alack, good sire of feeble knees,
New penance waits thee; since--when thus
Thou shouldst have wept for all of us--
Thou mournest thine own ease I

III

The mother of all loving wives
(Condemned unborn to many a tear)
Is fain to take his hand, and strives
In sorrow to be doubly dear--
But shame deprives.

[Illustration: 098.]

The shame, the woe, the black surprise,
That love's first dream should have such ending,
To weep, and wipe neglected eyes I
Oh loss of true love, far transcending
Lost Paradise!

For is it faith, that cannot live
One gloomy hour, and soar above
The clouds of fate? And is it love,
That will not e'en forgive?

IV

The houseless monarch of the earth
Hath quickly found what empire means;
For while he scoffs with bitter mirth,
And curses, after Eden's scenes,
This dreary dearth.

A snake, that twined in playful zeal,
But yester morn, around his ankle,
Now driven along the dust to steal,
Steals up, and leaves its venom'd rankle
Deep in his heel.

He groans awhile. He seeks anon
For comfort to this first of pain,
Where all his sons to-day are fain;
He seeks--but Eve is gone!

PART I--ADAM

_O'er hill, and highland, moor, and plain,
A hundred years, he seeks in vain;
Oer hill and plain, a hundred years,
He pours the sorrow no one hears;
Yet finds, as wildest mourners find,
Some ease of heart in toil of mind._

I

"YE mountains, that forbid the day,
Ye glens, that are the steps of night,
How long amid you must I stray,
Deserted, banished from God's sight,
And castaway?

"Ye trees and flowers the Lord hath made,
Ye beasts, to my good-will committed--
Although your trust hath been betrayed--
Not long ago ye would have pitied
Your old comrade.

"Oh, nature, noblest when alone,
Albeit I love your outward part;
The nature that enthrals my heart
Must be more like my own.

II

"The Maker once appointed me--
I kn