Classic Poem

When from their lurking place the Voice
Of God dragged forth that fallen pair,
Still seemed the garden to rejoice;
The sinless Eden still was fair.

They, they alone, whose light of grace
But late made Paradise look dim,
Stood now, a blot upon its face,
Before their God, nor gazed on him.

They glanced not up; or they had seen
In that severe, death-dooming eye
Unutterable depths serene
Of sadly piercing sympathy.

Not them alone that Eye beheld,
But by their side, that other twain,
In whom the race whose doom was knelled
Once more should rise, once more should reign.

It saw that Infant crowned with blood —
And her from whose predestined breast
That Infant ruled the worlds. She stood
Her foot upon the serpent's crest.

Voice of primeval prophecy,
Of all the Gospels head and heart,
With him, her Son and Saviour, she
Possessed, that hour, in thee a part.