Version 1 (1913)1.2Lifted, grasping the golden light1.3Which weaves its way through the creeper leaves1.4 To my heart's delight?
1.5Ah, only the leaves! But in the west,1.6In the west I see a redness come1.7Over the evening's burning breast --1.8 -- 'Tis the wound of love goes home!
1.9The woodbine creeps abroad1.10Calling low to her lover:1.11The sun-lit flirt who all the day1.12Has poised above her lips in play1.13And stolen kisses, shallow and gay1.14Of pollen, now has gone away1.15-- She woos the moth with her sweet, low word,1.16And when above her his broad wings hover1.17Then her bright breast she will uncover1.18And yield her honey-drop to her lover.
1.19Into the yellow, evening glow1.20Saunters a man from the farm below,1.21Leans, and looks in at the low-built shed1.22Where hangs the swallow's marriage bed.1.23The bird lies warm against the wall.1.24She glances quick her startled eyes1.25Towards him, then she turns away1.26Her small head, making warm display1.27Of red upon the throat. His terrors sway1.28Her out of the nest's warm, busy ball,1.29Whose plaintive cry is heard as she flies1.30In one blue stoop from out the sties1.31Into the evening's empty hall.
1.32Oh, water-hen, beside the rushes1.33Hide your quaint, unfading blushes,1.34Still your quick tail, and lie as dead,1.35Till the distance folds over his ominous tread.
1.36The rabbit presses back her ears,1.37Turns back her liquid, anguished eyes1.38And crouches low: then with wild spring1.39Spurts from the terror of his oncoming1.40To be choked back, the wire ring1.41Her frantic effort throttling:1.42Piteous brown ball of quivering fears!
1.43Ah soon in his large, hard hands she dies,1.44And swings all loose tohe swing of his walk.1.45Yet calm and kindly are his eyes1.46And ready to open in brown surprise1.47Should I not answer to his talk1.48Or should he my tears surmise.
1.49I hear his hand on the latch, and rise from my chair1.50Watching the door open: he flashes bare1.51His strong teeth in a smile, and flashes his eyes1.52In a smile like triumph upon me; then careless-wise1.53He flings the rabbit soft on the table board1.54And comes towards me: ah, the uplifted sword1.55Of his hand against my bosom, and oh, the broad1.56Blade of his hand that raises my face to applaud1.57His coming: he raises up my face to him1.58And caresses my mouth with his fingers, which still smell grim1.59Of the rabbit's fur! God, I am caught in a snare!1.60I know not what fine wire is round my throat,1.61I only know I let him finger there1.62My pulse of life, letting him nose like a stoat1.63Who sniffs with joy before he drinks the blood:1.64And down his mouth comes to my mouth, and down1.65His dark bright eyes descend like a fiery hood1.66Upon my mind: his mouth meets mine, and a flood1.67Of sweet fire sweeps across me, so I drown1.68Within him, die, and find death good.
Version 2 (1928)2.2Grasping in the golden light2.3Which weaves its way through the evening wind2.4At my heart's delight?
2.5Ah, only the leaves! But in the west2.6I see a redness suddenly come2.7Into the evening's anxious breast --2.8'Tis the wound of love goes home!
2.9The woodbine creeps abroad2.10Calling low to her lover:2.11The sunlit flirt who all the day2.12Has poised above her lips in play2.13And stolen kisses, shallow and gay2.14Of pollen, now has gone away --2.15She woos the moth with her sweet, low word;2.16And when above her his moth-wings hover2.17Then her bright breast she will uncover2.18And yield her honey-drop to her lover.
2.19Into the yellow, evening glow2.20Saunters a man from the farm below;2.21Leans, and looks in at the low-built shed2.22Where the swallow has hung her marriage bed.2.23The bird lies warm against the wall.2.24She glances quick her startled eyes2.25Towards him, then she turns away2.26Her small head, making warm display2.27Of red upon the throat. Her terrors sway2.28Her out of the nest's warm, busy ball,2.29Whose plaintive cry is heard as she flies2.30In one blue stoop from out the sties2.31Into the twilight's empty hall.
2.32Oh, water-hen, beside the rushes2.33Ride your quaintly scarlet blushes,2.34Still your quick tall, lie still as dead,2.35Till the distance folds over his ominous tread!
2.36The rabbit presses back her ears,2.37Turns back her liquid, anguished eyes2.38And crouches low; then with wild spring2.39Spurts from the terror of his oncoming;2.40To be choked back, the wire ring2.41Her frantic effort throttling:2.42Piteous brown ball of quivering fears!2.43Ah, soon in his large, hard hands she dies,2.44And swings all loose from the swing of his walk!2.45Yet calm and kindly are his eyes2.46And ready to open in brown surprise2.47Should I not answer to his talk2.48Or should he my tears surmise.
2.49I hear his hand on the latch, and rise from my chair2.50Watching the door open; he flashes bare2.51His strong teeth in a smile, and flashes his eyes2.52In a smile like triumph upon me; then careless-wise2.53He flings the rabbit soft on the table board2.54And comes towards me: ah! the uplifted sword2.55Of his hand against my bosom! and oh, the broad2.56Blade of his glance that asks me to applaud2.57His coming! With his hand he turns my face to him2.58And caresses me with his fingers that still smell grim2.59Of the rabbit's fur! God, I am caught in a snare!2.60I know not what fine wire is round my throat;2.61I only know I let him finger there2.62My pulse of life, and let him nose like a stoat2.63Who sniffs with joy before he drinks the blood.
2.64And down his mouth comes to my mouth! and down2.65His bright dark eyes come over me, like a hood2.66Upon my mind! his lips meet mine, and a flood2.67Of sweet fire sweeps across me, so I drown2.68Against him, die, and find death good.
