In Edens christened differently
from present past antiquity,
she's renewed, your garden muse,
her trancing passion to peruse
such wonders you cannot refute.
And so, seduced, you taste the fruit,
and sacrifice each paradise
to ponder folly, virtue, vice.
It always starts along a wall:
she, inclining, smiles - you fall,
aware forever how this ends,
and you will swear to make amends,
avert temptations when they stir,
but, then, her eyes, and you defer.