MADONNA EVE

By Helen Hay Whitney

From what far spicery derives your hair

The sweet faint fragrance that enslaves my sense?

What subtle love trick taught you to be fair

With overt lure and covert reticence?

Madonna Eve, you bear upon your breast

A hungry emerald like the desiring sea,

But warm upon your heart lie pearls of rest

What man could exorcise such witchery?