First Love

by BETTE RICHART
WE TWO were Adam and Eve, alone, bewildered,
In a vast world beyond our measuring,
Treading upon the flowers, the young leaves shyly,
Lest we should crush some hidden fragile thing.
The world to us was strange and gay and lovely,
The sky amazing, smooth as glass or metal,
The slope of hills geometry consummate,
Perfection intricate in every petal.
We could have stayed adventuring forever,
If it had been enough to love and wonder:
To wait afraid for the terrible bright angel,
To tremble at the first prophetic thunder.