Poor untaught Eve whose brief, persuaded sinning
Brings still upon her head the stern disdain
Of heavy-domed philosophers, the grinning
Sly knowingness of fools, and all the pain;
And even, sometimes, too, a sense of hurt
And disapproval from her numerous brood
Of daughters. Is there no one to assert
That earth's All-Mother merits gratitude?
She squandered Eden, but with all her might
Sought to rebuild it with two burdened hands;
And from her eyes there never faded quite
The light they carried in the Blessed Lands.
So that her children though wrong may entice,
Like her are homesick for Lost Paradise.
from Sonnets For Eve (c) 1952, Clara Aiken Speer