Page:An epic of women and other poems (IA epicofwomenother00osha).pdf/219

 It was in the time of fruit; When the peach began to pout, And the purple grape to shine, And the leaves were a threadbare suit For the blushing blood of the vine, And the spoilers were about And the viper glode at the root:

—She came, and with her hand, With her mouth, yea, and her eyes She hath ravaged all the land; Its beauty shall no more rise: She hath drawn the wine to her lip. For a mere wanton sip: Lo, where the vine-branch lies; Lo, where the drained grapes drip.

Her feet left many a stain; And her lips left many a sting; She will never come again, And the fruit of everything Is a canker or a pain: