Eve, with her basket, was br Deep in the bells and grass, br Wading in bells and grass br Up to her knees, br Picking a dish of sweet br Berries and plums to eat, br Down in the bell and grass br Under the trees. br Mute as a mouse in a br Corner the cobra lay, br Circled round a bough of the br Cinnamon tall. . . . br Now to get even and br Humble proud heaven and br Now was the moment or br Never at all. br 'Eva!' Each syllable br Light as a flower fell, br 'Eva!' he whispered the br Wondering maid, br Soft as a bubble sung br Out of a linnet's lung, br Soft and most silverly br 'Eva!' he said. br Picture that orchard sprite, br Eve, with her body white, br Supple and smooth to her br Slim finger tips. br Wondering, listening, br Listening, wondering, br Eve with a berry br Half-way to her lips. br Oh had our simple Eve br Seen through the make-believe! br Had she but known the br Pretender he was! br Out of the boughs he came, br Whispering still her name, br Tumbling in twenty rings br Into the grass. br Here was the strangest pair br In the world anywhere, br Eve in the bells and grass br Kneeling, and he br Telling the story low. . . . br Singing birds saw them go br Down the dark path to br The Blasphemous Tree. br O what a clatter when br Titmouse and Jenny Wren br Saw him successful and br Taking his leave! br How the birds rated him, br How they all hated him! br How they all pitied br Poor motherless Eve! br Picture her crying br Outside in the lane, br Eve, with no dish of sweet br Berries and plums to eat, br Haunting the gate of the br Orchard in vain. . . . br Picture the lewd delight br Under the hill to-night - br 'Eva!' the toast goes round, br 'Eva!' again.