| Louis Untermeyer, ed. (1885–1977). Modern British Poetry. 1920. |
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| Ralph Hodgson. |
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| 108. Eve |
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| EVE, with her basket, was | |
| Deep in the bells and grass, | |
| Wading in bells and grass | |
| Up to her knees. | |
| Picking a dish of sweet | 5 |
| Berries and plums to eat, | |
| Down in the bells and grass | |
| Under the trees. | |
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| Mute as a mouse in a | |
| Corner the cobra lay, | 10 |
| Curled round a bough of the | |
| Cinnamon tall.... | |
| Now to get even and | |
| Humble proud heaven and | |
| Now was the moment or | 15 |
| Never at all. | |
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| "Eva!" Each syllable | |
| Light as a flower fell, | |
| "Eva!" he whispered the | |
| Wondering maid, | 20 |
| Soft as a bubble sung | |
| Out of a linnet's lung, | |
| Soft and most silverly | |
| "Eva!" he said. | |
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| Picture that orchard sprite; | 25 |
| Eve, with her body white, | |
| Supple and smooth to her | |
| Slim finger tips; | |
| Wondering, listening, | |
| Listening, wondering, | 30 |
| Eve with a berry | |
| Half-way to her lips. | |
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| Oh, had our simple Eve | |
| Seen through the make-believe! | |
| Had she but known the | 35 |
| Pretender he was! | |
| Out of the boughs he came, | |
| Whispering still her name, | |
| Tumbling in twenty rings | |
| Into the grass. | 40 |
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| Here was the strangest pair | |
| In the world anywhere, | |
| Eve in the bells and grass | |
| Kneeling, and he | |
| Telling his story low.... | 45 |
| Singing birds saw them go | |
| Down the dark path to | |
| The Blasphemous Tree. | |
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| Oh, what a clatter when | |
| Titmouse and Jenny Wren | 50 |
| Saw him successful and | |
| Taking his leave! | |
| How the birds rated him, | |
| How they all hated him! | |
| How they all pitied | 55 |
| Poor motherless Eve! | |
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| Picture her crying | |
| Outside in the lane, | |
| Eve, with no dish of sweet | |
| Berries and plums to eat, | 60 |
| Haunting the gate of the | |
| Orchard in vain.... | |
| Picture the lewd delight | |
| Under the hill to-night— | |
| "Eva!" the toast goes round, | 65 |
| "Eva!" again. | |
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