Her true faith in her love.

VI

And though, before she heard his foot,
The moon had climbed the homestead palm,
Flinging to her the shadowed fruit,
And tree-frogs ceased to break the calm,
And birds were mute,

With sudden transport ever new,
She blushed, and sprang from forth the bower,
Her eyes, as bright as moon-lit dew,
Her bosom glad as snow-veiled flower,
When sun shines through;

He, with a natural dignity
Untaught self-consciousness by harm,
Sustained her with his manly arm,
And smiled upon her glee.

VII

Next day, when early evening shone
Along the walks of Paradise,
Strewing with gold the hills, her throne,
Embarrassing the winds with spice
(Too rich a loan),

Fair Eve was in her bower of ease,
A cool arcade of fruit and flowers,

From North and East enclasped by trees,
But open to the Western showers,
And Southern breeze.

Here followed she her gardening trade,
Her favourites' simple needs attending,
And singing soft, above them bending,
A song herself had made.

VIII

In evening's calm, she walked between
The tints and shades of rich delight,
While overhead came, arching green,
Many a shrub and parasite,
To crown their Queen;

There laughed the joy of the rose, among
Myrtle and Iris, heaven's eye,
Magnole, with cups of moonlight 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 ha