 | The Complete Poetical Works of Robert Buchanan |  |
III.
There still doth shine the Tree Divine,Flush'd with a purple flame,
And hand in hand our parents stand,
Naked, but have no shame.
Now Adam goes to take repose
While musing sits his Dame;
When, over her, the blest boughs stir,
To show how Satan came.
A Snake so bright, with horns of light,
Green leaves he rustles thro',
Fair Eve descries with wondering eyes;
And this, God wot, is true.
| The Complete Poetical Works of Robert Buchanan | |