With grateful pauses, as when whirlwinds cease
To riot in a wood, and there is peace.
Thus Eve; Man’s truce, nor his alone, for play;
But Nature’s universal holiday.
Stall-wards, devious steps, the cattle pass,
Their udders richly furnished; on the grass
With harmless horns kids wrestle; while a band,
Children and Wife, contend to clasp his hand,
And kiss his lips; he happy in the pride
Of love which chastity has sanctified.