Who was she in the Garden, there before
The tree with cherubim and flaming Sword
Was guarded? What true thoughts, not culture’s lore,
By grace, and yet by more: first fellowship’s
Commune, did her mind hold, and her heart own?
The she for whom mere being was delight
And a swelf, not sought for, but simply known,
Was her first nature. While her daughters—lost
In her falling—were taken down as well.
Now those who mourn her blessed position,
Before sin earned its wage of death and hell,
Walk ‘neath a shadow while Woman awaits
All that she held, yet was wasted and lost,
Promised to those who will kneel at His cross.
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