The apples that grew on the fruit-tree of knowledge
By woman were pluck'd, and she still wears the prize,
To tempt us in Theatre, Senate, or College;
I mean the love-apples that bloom in the eyes.
VI.
There too is the lash which, all statutes controlling,
Still governs the slaves that are made by the fair,
For man is the pupil, who, while her eye's rolling,
Is lifted to rapture or sunk in despair.