spicy scent
Of citron and of myrtle all the place
Made sweet, and 'mid the trees, an open space
They saw.
Not far away a broad lagoon
Burned like a topaz 'neath a crescent moon,
For day was parting. Even-tide apace
Drew on, and chill the night dews filled the place.
Upon the waters dusky shadows clung,
And ashen-gray the broad leaves drooping hung;
Low 'mong the marish buds lay one that made
Against the sudden dusk a duskier shade--
Despairing arms upflinging to the sky,
Smiting the silence with unheeded cry--
"O mother, childless! Wife--of all bereft!
Alas, my babe, not even thou art left
To comfort me, in these last hopeless days,
Shut out from Paradise. Through unknown ways
I sought thee sorrowing. Oh, once again,
My Adam, come! Is not this gnawing pain
Of punishment enow, that thou unkind
Art grown? Ah, never more shall I thee find?
Alas, I ever was but weak. Alone
I cannot live. Come but again, mine own.
No longer leave me mourning, desolate.
In tears I call thee. Oh, in tears I wait
Thy sweet, forgiving kiss!"
Ended she so
Her plaint. And 'mong the glistening leaves hid low,
Lilith yet fiercer clasped the child
When that lorn mother, tear-stained, weeping, wild,
Poured forth her woe.
As one that wakes to life
From peaceful dreams, leaps quick amid the strife
Of morning hours, so now the maid to pass
From Lilith's arms strove hard. And loosed her clasp,
And turned her shadowed face with plaintive moan
And fond beseeching eyes, where lay her mother lone.
But Lilith hardening, seized the child again,
And from her ears shut out the mother's pain
With wilful hands.
So passed she quick away.
Across the dusky path, low fallen, lay
Pale Eve, till clear she saw the dawn's pure ray,
And as she looked, the voice of one she heard
Anigh. Her heart to sudden joy was stirred.
"Rise up, mine own," he said, "no more apart
We walk." Then she arose, and cried, "Dear heart,
Close hold me. So! Methinks I dreamed we were
Parted long time."
So went, the exiled pair
From home thrust out, together--everywhere.
And oft they journeyed on with sufferings spent
To distant lands. And oft with labor bent
Recalled the ol