A rushing fountain floods and burns my chest
Reminding me of what I felt and know.
‘Twas knowledge that corrupted what was best:
Eve ate, and Adam too. The curse was so
That we would see the cost of human pride.
The snake returned: I saw what would occur
Yet took a bite— so sweet, so pure! But I’d
A hundred times resist the seeming lure
If spotless mind and heart were still both whole,
If I had known that innocence was not
The mark of naïve child, but rather the goal
Of lovely and desired hearts, once bought
Regardless of their state, with precious blood.
Their grace is but a river; mine, a flood.
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