East of Eden

The fierce white splendour of a tropic noon;

A sweltering waste of jungle, breathing flame ;

The sky one burning sapphire !

By a spring

Within the shadow of a bluff of rock

The hoary giant rested. At his feet

The cool green mosses edged the crystal
pool,

And flowers of blue and gold and rose-red
lulled :

The weary eye with colour. As he sat

There rose a clamour from the sea of
canes ;

He heard a crash of boughs, a rush of feet ;

And, lo! there bounded from the tangled
growth

A panting tiger mad with pain and rage.

The beast sprang roaring, but the giant
towered

And pashed with one fell buffet bone and
brain ;

Then staggered with a groan, for, keen and
swift,

At that same instant from the jungle flew

A shaft which to the feather pierced his
frame.

87