In bloom and bud the bees are busily Storing against the winter their sweet hoard That shall be rifled ere the autumn be Past, or the winter comes with silver sword To fright the bees, until the merry round...
Now may we turn aside and dry our tears, And comfort us, and lay aside our fears, For all is gone, all comely quality, All gentleness and hospitality, All courtesy and merriment is gone;...
If all must suffer equally, and pay In equal share for that sin wrought by Eve, O Thou, if Thou wilt deign to answer, say: Why are the poor tormented? why made grieve The innocent? why are the free enslaved?...
So Eden was deserted, and at eve Into the quiet place God came to grieve. His face was sad, His hands hung slackly down Along his robe; too sorrowful to frown He paced along the grassy paths and through...