We’ve updated our Terms of Use to reflect our new entity name and address. You can review the changes here.
We’ve updated our Terms of Use. You can review the changes here.
/
  • Streaming + Download

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    Purchasable with gift card

      £1 GBP  or more

     

about

For over 25 years I kept the memory of the opening line of this poem (and the accompanying guitar part written by a long-since-forgotten university
acquaintance). Thanks to the internet, I re-discovered the whole. Written by Ralph Hodgson (1871 - 1962) in the early 1900s, it is, apparently, a veiled commentary on 'National Velvet' author Enid Bagnold's affair with (the infamous) Frank Harris (whose 'My Life and Loves' scandalised Britain, Europe and America in the 1920s).

lyrics

EVE, with her basket, was
Deep in the bells and grass,
Wading in bells and grass
Up to her knees.
Picking a dish of sweet
Berries and plums to eat,
Down in the bells and grass
Under the trees.

Mute as a mouse in a
Corner the cobra lay,
Curled round a bough of the
Cinnamon tall....
Now to get even and
Humble proud heaven and
Now was the moment or
Never at all.

"Eva!" Each syllable
Light as a flower fell,
"Eva!" he whispered the
Wondering maid,
Soft as a bubble sung
Out of a linnet's lung,
Soft and most silverly
"Eva!" he said.

Picture that orchard sprite;
Eve, with her body white,
Supple and smooth to her
Slim finger tips;
Wondering, listening,
Listening, wondering,
Eve with a berry
Half-way to her lips.

Oh, had our simple Eve
Seen through the make-believe!
Had she but known the
Pretender he was!
Out of the boughs he came,
Whispering still her name,
Tumbling in twenty rings
Into the grass.

Here was the strangest pair
In the world anywhere,
Eve in the bells and grass
Kneeling, and he
Telling his story low....
Singing birds saw them go
Down the dark path to
The Blasphemous Tree.

Oh, what a clatter when
Titmouse and Jenny Wren
Saw him successful and
Taking his leave!
How the birds rated him,
How they all hated him!
How they all pitied
Poor motherless Eve!

Picture her crying
Outside in the lane,
Eve, with no dish of sweet
Berries and plums to eat,
Haunting the gate of the
Orchard in vain....
Picture the lewd delight
Under the hill to-night—
"Eva!" the toast goes round,
"Eva!" again.

credits

from NowHere - 4 songs, released March 12, 2004
Lyrics - Ralph Hodgson
Music - unknown (possibly Francis Hayden)

license

all rights reserved

tags

about

Peter Michael Rowan Penrith, UK

contact / help

Contact Peter Michael Rowan

Streaming and
Download help

Redeem code

Report this track or account

If you like Peter Michael Rowan, you may also like: