  FAR away I hear the voices of four rivers flowing, Wings in the thicket, and the four winds blowing. Adam sleeps in Eden. In this still place I lie within his circling arm and look upon his face. God walks in the garden when the day is cool, But the face of Adam is far more beautiful; He is like the splendour of the sun at noon, And the slope of his body like the white young moon. Of what is he dreaming as he lies at rest? Of God in the Garden? Or Lilith’s breast? Adam sleeps in Eden, but down in the brake I watch the cool glitter of a painted snake. |
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