Adam, a brown old vulture in the rain, <br />Shivered below his wind-whipped olive-trees; <br />Huddling sharp chin on scarred and scraggy knees, <br />He moaned and mumbled to his darkening brain; <br />‘He was the grandest of them all was Cain! <br />‘A lion laired in the hills, that none could tire: <br />‘Swift as a stag: a stallion of the plain, <br />‘Hungry and fierce with deeds of huge desire.’ <br /> <br />Grimly he thought of Abel, soft and fair <br />A lover with disaster in his face, <br />And scarlet blossom twisted in bright hair. <br />‘Afraid to fight; was murder more disgrace?’ <br />‘God always hated Cain’ He bowed his head <br />The gaunt wild man whose lovely sons were dead.<br /><br />Siegfried Sassoon<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/ancient-history/
