Classic Poem

Eden garden was very fair,
When sin came not thereby.
For never any cloud did fare
Across the iridescent air
Or blotch the happy sky

The land was filled with green grass
Spread so exceeding bright
That wings and petals seemed to pass
As in a living looking glass
A vision less than sight.

The animals were rough and gay,
And called each other Brother.
Each, in his simple, bestial way,
Gave half his time to meat and play,
And gave to sleep the other.

When the tiger wished to sleep,
(His nose against his breast)
The wakeful hare loved but to creep
Anear and, with a sudden leap,
Disturb the tiger's rest.

The birds went zigzag, in and out,
On flower-coloured plats.
Never any had a doubt,
But heartily they walked about
With pards and other cats.

The fish in Eden rivers were
A very pleasant brood.
The little fishes did not stir
When the great pike thought fit to err,
For manna was his food.

Eden flowers were living wings,
When sin came not thereby.
Their light and tender flutterings
Made Eden blooms the gentlest things
Which did in Eden fly.

In that clear hour of drowsing day
They speckled all the dome.
The animals forsook their play,
And everyone was used to say:
Hush! the flowers fly home.

The dandy-coated honey bee
Came by and hummed his prayer:
And for the suppliant's honey fee
The flowers opened prettily
And laid their pockets bare.

Somewhat they kept, in certain cells,
For moths and butterflies
To feed on timorously; — else
How could they keep their downy fells,
And wings like angels' eyes?

O Eden, in the parting time!
The spring or autumn come,
The flowers craved another clime;
Fearing heat or dusty rime,
They clustered, all and some.

In some sweet plot of broad extent,
A busy fluttering horde.
The iris heralds came and went;
All their speech was piercing scent
Valorously outpoured.

The lily spread a flag anon,
The crocus pealed a cry;
And every star we see upon
The field had gorgeous raiment on:
Fantastic, striped and pie.

Like a strong host of butterflies
Their flight made heaven dark.
In very melancholy wise
Each beast looked up with solemn eyes
That dwelt in Eden park.

There was no light in all the land
Through all a lonely hour.
The grass, by light no longer fanned,
Was hard for beasts to understand,
And tasted harsh and sour

Another part of Eden plot
By contrary was glad;
Where all the animals forgot
Their beds of thyme and bergamot,
So great delight they had.

To see the pretty petals stoop
Upon their empty field,
In many a several-coloured group,
In posy tuft and garland loop,
The grass thereby concealed.

Eden, Eden, a field of sin;
A half way house of hell;
Every creature did straight begin
To have no longer peace therein,
When this sad state outfell.

This heaven was a burning sword
Which moved and rested not;
Manoeuvred by a shining lord,
Rising unto the very sward
Of Eden's desert plot.

The wildered beasts ran out and forth
Before the glittering brand;
And, as it chanced, to east or north,
They ran to ends of all the earth,
And peopled every land.

The scorched and harried birds betook
Them out in bitter fear;
In hope to find another nook,
Beside another bubbly brook,
Like that made Eden dear.

For terror of the fire that ran,
The fish could not but flee;
Therefore straightway each fish began
Swiftly to swim as fishes can
Towards the distant sea.

Ah, more for these than other things,
Alack the flowers' lot.
Ah, breathing sweets no longer wings,
Ah, vain their tender flutterings,
The light air answered not.

Ah, sin that should have thus undone
So timorous a stock.
That any beast might tread and stun
The pretty petals every one
Were chained to naked rock.

So varied form and colour came,
From flag to jessamine:
For some are streaked for simple shame,
Some wear the memory of the flame,
And some are flecked with sin.

Some, for their heavenly hope, are blue,
Some picture forth the sun.
Wet, wind and warmth and soils imbue
The cells of some with every hue,
And some the daylight shun.

So much they think of their first state,
That whoso marks their eyes,
Whoso has love to peep and wait,
Discerns in each a little gate
Of ancient paradise.