II [What is this tint that in the shrill…

What is this tint that in the shrill cress

Will never cease to trouble us and in the fields

Gives prick and praise for Beauty?

And said birds that feed on berries

Are pervious—and shook the snow from his thighs.

I thought of nothing carefully, but of snow, and the birds.

Then kissed the cup and sipped a little

Though almost choked drank slowly

Tickled with strange measure

She faked a pretty anger

I entertained the night with fantastic, empty pleasure

We went as far as the ivie-bush

And ivie-crowns upon our heads

And carried her kiss untouched and entire

Then all was fresh, inclined

To wriggle and nussle and lascivious

Ardent leaps. In the thickest of the wood

Bid him kiss close and often

And directed him to her fancie

The ground had a sweeter scent, the boughs a blush

One fruit, rare and rich, would outdo many together

She was wild to climb the tree

Nor would she be forbidden

She seized the apple and put it in her bosom.

Source: XEclogue (New Star Books, 2006)