| Poetical Works
(1828) |
| "A little further, O my father, yet a little further, and
we shall come into the open moonlight:"
Their road was through a forest of fir-trees; at its entrance
the trees stood at distances from each other, and the path
was broad, and the moonlight,
and the moonlight shadows reposed upon it, and appeared quietly
to inhabit that solitude. But soon the path winded and became
narrow; the sun at high noon sometimes speckled, but never
illumined it, and now it was dark as a cavern. |
| "It is dark, O my father!" said Enos, "but the path under
our feet is smooth and soft, and we shall soon come out into
the open moonlight." |
"Lead on, my child!" said Cain:
"guide me, little child!"
And the innocent little child clasped a finger of the hand
which had murdered the righteous Abel, and he guided his father.
"The fir branches drip upon thee,
my son." "Yea, pleasantly, father, for I ran fast and eagerly
to bring thee the pitcher and the cake, and my body is not
yet cool. How happy the squirrels are that feed on these fir
trees! they leap from bough to bough, and the old
squirrels play round their young ones in the nest. I clomb
a tree yesterday at noon, O my father, that I might play with
them, but they leapt away
from the branches, even to the slender twigs did they leap,
and in a moment I beheld them on another tree. Why, O my father,
would they not play with me? I would be good to them as thou
art good to me: and I groaned to them even as thou groanest
when thou givest me to eat, and when thou coverest me at evening,
and as often as I stand at thy knee and thine eyes look at
me?" Then Cain stopped, and stifling his groans
he sank to the earth, and the child Enos stood in the darkness
beside him. |
| And Cain lifted up his
voice and cried bitterly, and said, "The Mighty
One that persecuteth me is on this side and on that; he pursueth
my soul like the wind, like the sand-blast he passeth through
me; he is around me even as the air!
O that I might be utterly no more! I desire to die—yea,
the things that never had life, neither move they upon the
earth—behold! they
seem precious to mine eyes. O that a man might live without
the breath of his nostrils. So
I might abide in darkness,
and blackness, and an empty space! Yea, I would lie down,
I would not rise, neither would I stir my limbs till I became
as the rock in the den of the lion, on which the young lion
resteth his head whilst he sleepeth. For the torrent that
roareth far off hath a voice;
and the clouds in heaven look terribly on me; the mighty
one who is against me speaketh in the wind of the
cedar grove; and in silence am I dried up." Then Enos spake
to his father, "Arise my
father, arise, we are but a little way from the place where
I found the cake and the pitcher."
And Cain said, "How knowest thou?" and the child
answered—"Behold
the bare rocks are a few of thy strides distant from the forest;
and while even now thou wert lifting up thy voice, I heard
the echo." Then the child took hold of his father, as if he
would raise him: and Cain
being faint and feeble rose slowly on his knees and pressed
himself against the trunk of a fir, and stood upright and
followed the child. |
| The path was dark till
within three strides' length of its termination,
when it turned suddenly; the thick black trees formed a low
arch, and the moonlight appeared for a moment like a dazzling
portal. Enos ran before and stood in the open air; and when
Cain, his father, emerged from the darkness,
the child was affrighted. For
the mighty limbs of Cain were wasted as by fire; his hair
was as the matted curls on the Bison's
forehead, and so glared his fierce and sullen eye beneath:
and the black abundant locks on either side, a rank and tangled
mass, were stained and scorched, as though the grasp of a
burning iron hand had striven to rend them; and his countenance
told in a strange and terrible language of agonies that had
been, and were, and were still to continue to be. |
| The scene around was desolate; as far as the eye could reach
it was desolate: the bare
rocks faced each other, and left a long and wide interval
of thin white sand. You
might wander on and look round and round, and peep into the
crevices of the rocks
and discover nothing that acknowledged the influence of the
seasons. There was no spring, no summer, no autumn:
and the winter's snow,
that would have been lovely, fell not on these hot rocks and
scorching sands. Never morning lark had poised himself over
this desert; but the huge serpent often hissed there beneath
the talons of the vulture, and the vulture screamed, his wings
imprisoned within the coils of the serpent. The pointed and
shattered summits of the ridges of the rocks made a rude mimicry
of human concerns, and seemed to prophecy
mutely of things that then were not; steeples, and battlements,
and ships with naked masts. As far from the wood as a boy
might sling a pebble of the brook, there was one rock by itself
at a small distance from the main ridge. It had been precipitated
there perhaps by the groan which
the Earth uttered when
our first father fell. Before you approached, it appeared
to lie flat on the ground, but its base slanted from its point,
and between its point
and the sands a tall man might stand upright. It was here
that Enos had found the pitcher and cake, and to this place
he led his father. But ere they had
reached the rock they beheld a human shape:
his back was towards them, and they were advancing
unperceived, when they heard him smite his breast
and cry aloud, "Wo, is
me! wo, is me! I must
never die again, and yet I am perishing with thirst and hunger." |
| Pallid, as the reflection of the sheeted lightning on the
heavy-sailing Night-cloud,
became the face of Cain; but the child Enos took hold of the
shaggy skin, his Father's
robe, and raised his eyes to his Father,
and listening whispered, "Ere yet I could speak, I am sure,
O my father, that I heard that voice. Have not I often said
that I remembered a sweet voice.
O my father! this is it:" and Cain trembled exceedingly. The
voice was sweet indeed, but it was thin and querulous like that of a feeble slave
in misery, who despairs altogether, yet can not refrain himself
from weeping and lamentation. And,
behold! Enos glided forward, and creeping softly
round the base of the rock, stood before the stranger, and
looked up into his face. And the Shape shrieked, and turned
round, and Cain beheld him, that his limbs and his face were
those of his brother ABEL whom he had killed! And Cain stood like one who struggles
in his sleep because of the exceeding terribleness of a dream. |
| Thus as he stood in silence and darkness of Soul, the SHAPE fell at his feet, and embraced his
knees, and cried out with a bitter outcry, "Thou eldest born
of Adam, whom Eve, my mother, brought forth, cease to torment
me! I was feeding my flocks in green pastures by the side
of quiet rivers, and thou killedst me; and now I am in misery."
Then Cain closed his eyes, and hid them with his hands;
and again he opened his eyes, and looked around him, and said
to Enos, "What beholdest
thou? Didst thou hear a voice my
son?" "Yes, my father, I beheld a man in unclean garments,
and he uttered a sweet voice, full of lamentation." Then Cain
raised up the Shape that was like Abel, and said. "The Creator of our father, who had respect
unto thee, and unto thy offering, wherefore hath he forsaken
thee?" Then the Shape shrieked a second time, and rent his
garment, and his naked skin was like the white sands beneath
their feet; and he shrieked yet a third time, and threw himself
on his face upon the sand that was black with the shadow of
the rock, and Cain and Enos sate beside him; the child by
his right hand, and Cain by his left. They were all three
under the rock, and within the shadow. The Shape that was
like Abel raised himself up, and spake to the child; "I know where the cold waters are
but I may not drink, wherefore didst thou then take away my
pitcher?" But Cain said, "Didst thou not find favour in the
sight of the Lord thy God?" The Shape answered, "The Lord
is God of the living only, the dead have another God." Then
the child Enos lifted up his eyes and prayed; but Cain rejoiced
secretly in his heart. "Wretched shall they be all the days
of their mortal life," exclaimed the Shape, "who sacrifice
worthy and acceptable sacrifices to the God of the dead; but
after death their toil ceaseth. Woe is me, for I was well
beloved by the God of the living, and cruel wert thou, O my
brother, who didst snatch me away from his power and his dominion."
Having uttered these words, he rose suddenly, and fled over
the sands; and Cain said in his heart, "The
curse of the Lord is on me; but
who is the God of the dead?" and he ran after the Shape, and
the Shape fled shrieking over the sands, and the sands rose
like white mists behind the steps of Cain, but the feet of
him that was like Abel disturbed not the sands. He greatly
outrun Cain, and turning short, he wheeled round, and came
again to the rock where they had been sitting, and where Enos
still stood; and the child caught hold of his garment as he
passed by, and he fell upon the ground.
And Cain stopped, and beholding him not, said,
"he has passed into the dark woods," and he walked slowly back to the rocks; and when he reached it the child
told him that he had caught hold of his garment as he passed
by, and that the man had fallen upon the ground;
and Cain once more sat beside
him, and said, "Abel, my
brother, I would lament for thee, but that the spirit within
me is withered, and burnt up with extreme agony. Now, I pray
thee, by thy flocks, and
by thy pastures, and by the quiet rivers which thou lovedst, that thou tell me all that thou
knowest. Who is the God of the dead? where doth he make his
dwelling? what sacrifices are acceptable unto him? for I have
offered, but have not been received; I have prayed, and have
not been heard; and how can I be afflicted more than I already
am?" The Shape arose and answered,
"O that thou hadst had pity on me as I will have pity on thee.
Follow me, Son of Adam!
and bring thy child with thee!" |
| And they three passed over the white sands between the rocks,
silent as the shadows. |
| Poetical Works
(1828) |
|
|
| Poetical Works
(1828) |
| "A little further, O my father, yet a little further, and
we shall come into the open moonlight."
Their road was through a forest of fir-trees; at its entrance
the trees stood at distances from each other, and the path
was broad, and the moonlight
and the moonlight shadows reposed upon it, and appeared quietly
to inhabit that solitude. But soon the path winded and became
narrow; the sun at high noon sometimes speckled, but never
illumined it, and now it was dark as a cavern. |
| "It is dark, O my father!" said Enos, "but the path under
our feet is smooth and soft, and we shall soon come out into
the open moonlight." |
"Lead on, my child!" said Cain:
"guide me, little child!"
And the innocent little child clasped a finger of the hand
which had murdered the righteous Abel, and he guided his father.
"The fir branches drip upon thee,
my son." "Yea, pleasantly, father, for I ran fast and eagerly
to bring thee the pitcher and the cake, and my body is not
yet cool. How happy the squirrels are that feed on these fir-trees!
they leap from bough to bough, and the old squirrels play
round their young ones in the nest. I clomb a tree yesterday
at noon, O my father, that I might play with them, but they
leaped away from the branches,
even to the slender twigs did they leap, and in a moment I
beheld them on another tree. Why, O my father, would they
not play with me? I would be good to them as thou art good
to me: and I groaned to them even as thou groanest when thou
givest me to eat, and when thou coverest me at evening, and
as often as I stand at thy knee and thine eyes look at me?"
Then Cain stopped, and stifling his groans
he sank to the earth, and the child Enos stood in the darkness
beside him. |
| And
Cain lifted up his voice
and cried bitterly, and said, "The Mighty One that persecuteth
me is on this side and on that; he pursueth my soul like the
wind, like the sand-blast he passeth through me; he is around
me even as the air! O
that I might be utterly no more! I desire to die—yea,
the things that never had life, neither move they upon the
earth—behold! they
seem precious to mine eyes. O that a man might live without
the breath of his nostrils. So
I might abide in darkness,
and blackness, and an empty space! Yea, I would lie down,
I would not rise, neither would I stir my limbs till I became
as the rock in the den of the lion, on which the young lion
resteth his head whilst he sleepeth. For the torrent that
roareth far off hath a voice:
and the clouds in heaven look terribly on me; the Mighty
One who is against me speaketh in the wind of the
cedar grove; and in silence am I dried up." Then Enos spake
to his father, "Arise,
my father, arise, we are but a little way from the place where
I found the cake and the pitcher."
And Cain said, "How knowest thou?" and the child
answered—"Behold
the bare rocks are a few of thy strides distant from the forest;
and while even now thou wert lifting up thy voice, I heard
the echo." Then the child took hold of his father, as if he
would raise him: and Cain
being faint and feeble rose slowly on his knees and pressed
himself against the trunk of a fir, and stood upright and
followed the child. |
| The path was dark till
within three strides' length of its termination,
when it turned suddenly; the thick black trees formed a low
arch, and the moonlight appeared for a moment like a dazzling
portal. Enos ran before and stood in the open air; and when
Cain, his father, emerged from the darkness,
the child was affrighted. For
the mighty limbs of Cain were wasted as by fire; his hair
was as the matted curls on the bison's
forehead, and so glared his fierce and sullen eye beneath:
and the black abundant locks on either side, a rank and tangled
mass, were stained and scorched, as though the grasp of a
burning iron hand had striven to rend them; and his countenance
told in a strange and terrible language of agonies that had
been, and were, and were still to continue to be. |
| The scene around was desolate; as far as the eye could reach
it was desolate: the bare
rocks faced each other, and left a long and wide interval
of thin white sand. You
might wander on and look round and round, and peep into the
crevices of the rocks
and discover nothing that acknowledged the influence of the
seasons. There was no spring, no summer, no autumn:
and the winter's snow,
that would have been lovely, fell not on these hot rocks and
scorching sands. Never morning lark had poised himself over
this desert; but the huge serpent often hissed there beneath
the talons of the vulture, and the vulture screamed, his wings
imprisoned within the coils of the serpent. The pointed and
shattered summits of the ridges of the rocks made a rude mimicry
of human concerns, and seemed to prophesy
mutely of things that then were not; steeples, and battlements,
and ships with naked masts. As far from the wood as a boy
might sling a pebble of the brook, there was one rock by itself
at a small distance from the main ridge. It had been precipitated
there perhaps by the groan which
the Earth uttered when
our first father fell. Before you approached, it appeared
to lie flat on the ground, but its base slanted from its point,
and between its point
and the sands a tall man might stand upright. It was here
that Enos had found the pitcher and cake, and to this place
he led his father. But ere they had
reached the rock they beheld a human shape:
his back was towards them, and they were advancing
unperceived, when they heard him smite his breast
and cry aloud, "Woe is
me! woe is me! I must
never die again, and yet I am perishing with thirst and hunger." |
| Pallid, as the reflection of the sheeted lightning on the
heavy-sailing night-cloud,
became the face of Cain; but the child Enos took hold of the
shaggy skin, his father's
robe, and raised his eyes to his father,
and listening whispered, "Ere yet I could speak, I am sure,
O my father, that I heard that voice. Have not I often said
that I remembered a sweet voice?
O my father! this is it:"
and Cain trembled exceedingly. The voice was sweet indeed,
but it was thin and querulous, like
that of a feeble slave in misery, who despairs altogether,
yet can not refrain himself from weeping and lamentation.
And, behold! Enos glided forward,
and creeping softly round the base of the rock, stood before
the stranger, and looked up into his face. And the Shape shrieked,
and turned round, and Cain beheld him, that his limbs and
his face were those of his brother Abel whom he had killed! And Cain stood like one who struggles
in his sleep because of the exceeding terribleness of a dream.
|
| Thus as he stood in silence and darkness of soul, the Shape fell at his feet, and embraced his
knees, and cried out with a bitter outcry, "Thou eldest born
of Adam, whom Eve, my mother, brought forth, cease to torment
me! I was feeding my flocks in green pastures by the side
of quiet rivers, and thou killedst me; and now I am in misery."
Then Cain closed his eyes, and hid them with his hands;
and again he opened his eyes, and looked around him, and said
to Enos, "What beholdest
thou? Didst thou hear a voice,
my son?" "Yes, my father, I beheld a man in unclean garments,
and he uttered a sweet voice, full of lamentation." Then Cain
raised up the Shape that was like Abel, and said: — "The Creator of our father, who had respect unto
thee, and unto thy offering, wherefore hath he forsaken thee?"
Then the Shape shrieked a second time, and rent his garment,
and his naked skin was like the white sands beneath their
feet; and he shrieked yet a third time, and threw himself
on his face upon the sand that was black with the shadow of
the rock, and Cain and Enos sate beside him; the child by
his right hand, and Cain by his left. They were all three
under the rock, and within the shadow. The Shape that was
like Abel raised himself up, and spake to the child: "I know where the cold waters are,
but I may not drink, wherefore didst thou then take away my
pitcher?" But Cain said, "Didst thou not find favour in the
sight of the Lord thy God?" The Shape answered, "The Lord
is God of the living only, the dead have another God." Then
the child Enos lifted up his eyes and prayed; but Cain rejoiced
secretly in his heart. "Wretched shall they be all the days
of their mortal life," exclaimed the Shape, "who sacrifice
worthy and acceptable sacrifices to the God of the dead; but
after death their toil ceaseth. Woe is me, for I was well
beloved by the God of the living, and cruel wert thou, O my
brother, who didst snatch me away from his power and his dominion."
Having uttered these words, he rose suddenly, and fled over
the sands: and Cain said in his heart, "The curse
of the Lord is on me; but
who is the God of the dead?" and he ran after the Shape, and
the Shape fled shrieking over the sands, and the sands rose
like white mists behind the steps of Cain, but the feet of
him that was like Abel disturbed not the sands. He greatly
outrun Cain, and turning short, he wheeled round, and came
again to the rock where they had been sitting, and where Enos
still stood; and the child caught hold of his garment as he passed
by, and he fell upon the ground. And
Cain stopped, and beholding him not, said, "he has passed
into the dark woods," and he walked slowly back to the rocks; and when he reached it the child told
him that he had caught hold of his garment as he passed by,
and that the man had fallen upon the ground: and Cain once more sate beside him, and said, "Abel, my brother, I would lament for
thee, but that the spirit within me is withered, and burnt
up with extreme agony. Now, I pray thee, by thy flocks, and by thy pastures, and by the quiet
rivers which thou lovedst,
that thou tell me all that thou knowest. Who is the God of
the dead? where doth he make his dwelling? what sacrifices
are acceptable unto him? for I have offered, but have not
been received; I have prayed, and have not been heard; and
how can I be afflicted more than I already am?" The Shape
arose and answered, "O that thou hadst had pity on
me as I will have pity on thee. Follow me, Son of Adam! and bring thy child with thee!"
|
| And they three passed over the white sands between the rocks,
silent as the shadows. |
| Poetical Works
(1834) |
|
|
| Bijou Literary Annual (1828) |
| "A little further, O my father, yet a little further, and
we shall come into the open moonlight!"
Their road was through a forest of fir-trees; at its entrance
the trees stood at distances from each other, and the path
was broad, and the moonlight,
and the moonlight shadows reposed upon it, and appeared quietly
to inhabit that solitude. But soon the path winded and became
narrow; the sun at high noon sometimes speckled, but never
illumined it, and now it was dark as a cavern. |
| "It is dark, O my father!" said Enos, "but the path under
our feet is smooth and soft, and we shall soon come out into
the open moonlight. Ah, why dost
thou groan so deeply?" |
| "Lead on my child," said Cain,
"guide me, little child."
And the innocent little child clasped a finger of the hand
which had murdered the righteous Abel, and he guided his father.
"The fir branches drip upon thee
my son."—"Yea, pleasantly,
father, for I ran fast and eagerly to bring thee the pitcher
and the cake, and my body is not yet cool. How happy the squirrels
are that feed on these fir trees!
they leap from bough to bough, and the old squirrels play
round their young ones in the nest. I clomb a tree yesterday
at noon, O my father, that I might play with them, but they
leapt away from the branches,
even to the slender twigs did they leap, and in a moment I
beheld them on another tree. Why, O my father, would they
not play with me? Is it because we
are not so happy as they? Is it because I groan sometimes
even as thou groanest?" Then Cain stopped, and
stifling his groans, he
sank to the earth, and the child Enos stood in the darkness
beside him; and Cain lifted
up his voice, and cried
bitterly, and said, "The Mighty One that persecuteth me is
on this side and on that; he pursueth my soul like the wind,
like the sand-blast he passeth through me; he is around me
even as the air, O that
I might be utterly no more! I desire to die—yea, the
things that never had life, neither move they upon the earth—behold
they seem precious to mine eyes. O that a man might live without
the breath of his nostrils, so
I might abide in darkness
and blackness, and an empty space! Yea, I would lie down,
I would not rise, neither would I stir my limbs till I became
as the rock in the den of the lion, on which the young lion
resteth his head whilst he sleepeth. For the torrent that
roareth far off hath a voice;
and the clouds in heaven look terribly on me; the mighty
one who is against me speaketh in the wind of the
cedar grove; and in silence am I dried up." Then Enos spake
to his father, "Arise
my father, arise, we are but a little way from the place where
I found the cake and the pitcher;"
and Cain said, "How knowest thou?" and the child
answered—"Behold,
the bare rocks are a few of thy strides distant from the forest;
and while even now thou wert lifting up thy voice, I heard
the echo." Then the child took hold of his father, as if he
would raise him, and Cain
being faint and feeble rose slowly on his knees and pressed
himself against the trunk of a fir, and stood upright and
followed the child. The
path was dark till within three strides' length of its termination
when it turned suddenly; the thick black trees formed a low
arch, and the moonlight appeared for a moment like a dazzling
portal. Enos ran before and stood in the open air; and when
Cain, his father, emerged from the darkness
the child was affrighted, for
the mighty limbs of Cain were wasted as by fire; his hair
was black, and matted into loathly
curls, and his countenance
was dark and wild, and told in a strange and terrible
language of agonies that had been, and were, and were still
to continue to be. |
The scene around was desolate; as far as the eye could reach,
it was desolate; the bare
rocks faced each other, and left a long and wide interval
of their white sand. You
might wander on and look round and round, and peep into the
crevices of the rocks,
and discover nothing that acknowledged the influence of the
seasons. There was no spring, no summer, no autumn,
and the winter's snow
that would have been lovely, fell not on these hot rocks and
scorching sands. Never morning lark had poised himself over
this desert; but the huge serpent often hissed there beneath
the talons of the vulture, and the vulture screamed, his wings
imprisoned within the coils of the serpent. The pointed and
shattered summits of the ridges of the rocks made a rude mimicry
of human concerns, and seemed to prophecy
mutely of things that then were not; steeples, and battlements,
and ships with naked masts. As far from the wood as a boy
might sling a pebble of the brook, there was one rock by itself
at a small distance from the main ridge. It had been precipitated
there perhaps by the terrible
groan the earth gave when
our first father fell. Before you approached, it appeared
to lie flat on the ground, but its base slanted from its point,
and between its points
and the sands a tall man might stand upright. It was here
that Enos had found the pitcher and cake, and to this place
he led his father. But ere they arrived
there they beheld a human shape;
his back was towards them, and they were coming
up unperceived when they heard him smite his breast
and cry aloud, "Wo, is
me! wo, is me! I must
never die again, and yet I am perishing with thirst and hunger." |
The face of Cain turned pale; but Enos said, "Ere
yet I could speak, I am sure, O my father, that I heard that
voice. Have not I often said that I remembered a sweet voice.
O my father! this is it;"
and Cain trembled exceedingly. The voice was sweet indeed,
but it was thin and querulous like
that of a feeble slave in misery, who despairs altogether,
yet can not refrain himself from weeping and lamentation.
Enos crept softly round
the base of the rock, and stood before the stranger, and looked
up into his face. And the Shape shrieked, and turned round,
and Cain beheld him, that his limbs and his face were those
of his brother Abel whom
he had killed; and Cain stood like one who struggles
in his sleep because of the exceeding terribleness of a dream;
and ere he had recovered himself from the tumult of his agitation,
the Shape fell at his feet, and embraced his
knees, and cried out with a bitter outcry, "Thou eldest born
of Adam, whom Eve, my mother, brought forth, cease to torment
me! I was feeding my flocks in green pastures by the side
of quiet rivers, and thou killedst me; and now I am in misery."
Then Cain closed his eyes, and hid them with his hands—
and again he opened his eyes, and looked around him, and said
to Enos "What beholdest
thou? Didst thou hear a voice,
my son?" "Yes, my father, I beheld a man in unclean garments,
and he uttered a sweet voice, full of lamentation." Then Cain
raised up the shape that was like Abel, and said, "The creator of our father, who had respect
unto thee, and unto thy offering, wherefore hath he forsaken
thee?" Then the Shape shrieked a second time, and rent his
garment, and his naked skin was like the white sands beneath
their feet; and he shrieked yet a third time, and threw himself
on his face upon the sand that was black with the shadow of
the rock, and Cain and Enos sate beside him; the child by
his right hand, and Cain by his left. They were all three
under the rock, and within the shadow. The Shape that was
like Abel raised himself up, and spake to the child; "I know where the cold waters are,
but I may not drink, wherefore didst thou then take away my
pitcher?" But Cain said, "Didst thou not find favour in the
sight of the Lord thy God?" The Shape answered, "The Lord
is God of the living only, the dead have another God." Then
the child Enos lifted up his eyes and prayed; but Cain rejoiced
secretly in his heart. "Wretched shall they be all the days
of their mortal life," exclaimed the Shape, "who sacrifice
worthy and acceptable sacrifices to the God of the dead; but
after death their toil ceaseth. Woe is me, for I was well
beloved by the God of the living, and cruel wert thou, O my
brother, who didst snatch me away from his power and his dominion."
Having uttered these words, he rose suddenly, and fled over
the sands; and Cain said in his heart, "The curse
of the Lord is on me—but
who is the God of the dead?" and he ran after the Shape, and
the Shape fled shrieking over the sands, and the sands rose
like white mists behind the steps of Cain, but the feet of
him that was like Abel disturbed not the sands. He greatly
outrun Cain, and turning short, he wheeled round, and came
again to the rock where they had been sitting, and where Enos
still stood; and the Child caught hold of his garment as he
passed by, and he fell upon the ground;
and Cain stopped, and beholding him not, said,
"he has passed into the dark woods," and walked slowly back
to the rocks, and when he reached it the child
told him that he had caught hold of his garment as he passed
by, and that the man had fallen upon the ground; and Cain once more sat beside him, and said—"Abel, my brother, I would lament
for thee, but that the spirit within me is withered, and burnt
up with extreme agony. Now, I pray thee, by thy flocks and by thy pastures, and by the
quiet rivers which thou lovest,
that thou tell me all that thou knowest. Who is the God of
the dead? where doth he make his dwelling? what sacrifices
are acceptable unto him? for I have offered, but have not
been received; I have prayed, and have not been heard; and
how can I be afflicted more than I already am?" The Shape
arose and answered—"O that thou hadst had pity
on me as I will have pity on thee. Follow me, son of Adam! and bring thy child with thee:" and they three passed over the
white sands between the rocks, silent as their shadows. |
| Bijou
(1828) |
|
|
