Wednesday, April 11, 2018

Eve and The Serpent

"But every man is tempted, when he is drawn away of his own lust, and enticed." James 1:14

Eve and The Serpent
Serpent. Not eat? not taste? not touch?
not cast an eye
Upon the fruit of this fair tree? and why?
Why eat'st thou not what Heav'n ordained
for food?
Or canst thou think that bad which Ileav'n
called good?
Why was it made, if not to be enjoyed?
Neglect of favors makes a favor void ;
Blessings unused pervert into a waste
As well as surfeits. Woman, do but taste.
See how the laden boughs make silent suit
To be enjoyed; look how their bending fruit
Meet thee half-way; observe but how they
crouch
To kiss thy hand; coy woman, do but touch;
Mark what a pure vermilion touch has dyed
Their swelling cheeks, and how for shame
they hide
Their palsy heads, to see themselves stand by
Neglected: woman, do but cast an eye.
What bounteous Heav'n ordained for use
refuse not;
Come, pull and eat: y' abuse the thing ye
use not.

Eve. Wisest of beasts, our great Creator
did
Reserve this tree, and this alone forbid ;
The rest are freely ours, which doubtless are
As pleasing to the taste, to the eye as fair;
But, touching this, His strict commands are
such,
'Tis death to taste, no less than death to
touch.

Serpent. Pish! death's a fable; did not
Heav'n inspire
Your equiil elements with living fire.
Blown from the spring of life? Is not that
breath
Immortal? Come, ye are as free from death
As He that made you. Can the flames
expire
Which He has kindled? Can ye quench His
fire?
Did not the great Creator's voice proclaim
Whate'er He made, from the blue-spangled
frame
To the poor leaf that trembles, very good?
Blessed He not both the feeder and the
food?
Tell, tell me, then, what danger can accrue
From such blessed food, to such half gods
as you?
Curb needless fears, and let no fond conceit
Abuse your freedom; woman, take and eat.

Eve. 'Tis true we are immortal; death is
yet
Unborn, and, till rebellion make it death,
Undue; I know the fruit is good, until
Presumptuous disobedience make it ill.
The lips that open to this fruit 's a portal
To let in death, and make immortal mortal.

Serpent. You cannot die; come, woman,
taste and fear not.

Eve. Shall Eve transgress? I dare not,
oh! I dare not.

Serpent. Afraid? why draw'st thou back
thy tim'rous arm?
Harm only falls on such as fear a harm.
Heav'n knows and fears the virtue of this
tree;
'Twill make you perfect gods as well as He.
Stretch forth thy hand, and let thy fondness
never
Fear death; do, pull and eat, and live for-
ever.

Eve. 'Tis but an apple; and it is as good
To do as to desire. Fruit's made for food:
I'll pull, and taste, and tempt my Adam too
To know the secrets of this dainty.

Serpent. Do.

Francis Quarles.

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