The petal of your earlobe undisturbed by the locks , As of Eve, whose nightly charm was Increased by stately Eden; Soft air and the fortunate surface Beneath you, are happy. There your neck, half invisible, awaits a silent speaker on the skin. No sound is heard, save a melody emerging from your mouth, unconscious, sweet as a summer bird's song. God is pleased to see us, His children, exultant, without transgressing His laws.