VAGRANT VERSE
CONQUEST (Written for the Southland Times) Swathed in the garment of the sun, Man and maid through the grasses run: The woman, fleeing like as a deer, Has on her face a look of fear, She w'ants so much to reach the wood—O if she could! O if she could Breath from the man is on her neck: Is there nothing with which to check The passion lust of his pursuit? Ahead of her she spies a root. Quickly she makes as if to fall, Neat swerves —and Adam lies asprawl. Over he went and now lies still; Eve pauses, pants, with eyes afill. What has she done? She meant no hurt! She now returns, brushes the dirt . Where it stains the green of his leaves, Bends her ear to note if he breathes. He makes no sound. With loud lament Her hair is torn, her leaves are rent. If only now he could return She never would his ardour spurn. Slowly to this be opens an eye To dote upon an unaraped thigh. Villain he is! He makes a groan. She at his side, coos with a moan, “Adam my love, Adam my man, Speak my dear, if you onlj’ can." Surrender now brims trem her eyes— At last an answer to his cries! —Lionel Grindlay.
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Bibliographic details
Southland Times, Issue 21428, 24 June 1931, Page 6
Word Count
219VAGRANT VERSE Southland Times, Issue 21428, 24 June 1931, Page 6
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