To the Three for Whom the Book
ONCE like a ladyIn a silken dress,The serpent might eddyThrough the wilderness,Billow and glowAnd undulateIn a rustling flowOf sinuous hate.Now dull-eyed and leaden,Of having lostHis EdenHe pays the cost.He shuns the treeThat brought him lowAs grown to beDomestic; noTemptations dapple,From leaf to root,The modern appleOur meekest fruit.Dragon and griffinAnd basilisk
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