Adam, a brown old vulture in the rain,
Shivered below his wind-whipped olive-trees;
Huddling sharp chin on scarred and scraggy knees,
He moaned and mumbled to his darkening brain;
‘He was the grandest of them all—was Cain!
‘A lion laired in the hills, that none could tire;
‘Swift as a stag; a stallion of the plain,
‘Hungry and fierce with deeds of huge desire.’
Grimly he thought of Abel, soft and fair—
A lover with disaster in his face,
And scarlet blossom twisted in bright hair.
‘Afraid to fight; was murder more disgrace? ...
‘God always hated Cain’ ... He bowed his head—
The gaunt wild man whose lovely sons were dead.
About the poet |
Siegfried Sassoon |
By the same poet |
Does It Matter? |
Counter-Attack |
Dreamers |
Absolution |
‘Blighters’ |
Everyone Sang |
Base Details |
Glory of Women |
The General |
The Last Meeting |
The Poet as Hero |
Survivors |
Suicide in the Trenches |
To Any Dead Officer |
The Hero |
Aftermath |
Attack |
Sick Leave |
The Dug-Out |
Related books |
Siegfried Sassoon at amazon.co.uk |