Seth and the sons of Seth who followed him Halted in silence: labour, then, was vain. Fast at the zenith, blazoned in his splendour, Hung the fierce Sun, wherefore these travelling folk Stood centred each in his own disc of shade. The term proposed was ended; now to enjoy The moment's melancholy; their tears fell shining. Yesterday early at the dreadful hour, When life ebbs lowest, when the strand of being Is slowly bared until discovered show Weed-mantelled hulks that foundered years ago At autumn anchorage, then father Adam Summoned in haste his elder generations To his death-tent, and gasping spoke to them, Forthwith defining an immediate journey Beyond the eastern ridge, in quest for one Whom he named Cain, brother to Seth, true uncle To these young spearmen; they should lead him here For a last benediction at his hands. First-born yet outlawed! Scarcely they believed In this strange word of "Cain," in this new man, Man, yet outside the tents; but Adam swore And gave them a fair sign of recognition. There was a brand, he said, a firm red pillar Parting Cain's brows, and Cain had mighty hands, Sprouting luxurious hair, red, like his beard. Moreover Adam said that by huge strength Himself could stay this ebb of early morning, Yet three days longer, three days, though no more— This for the stern desire and long disquietude That was his love for Cain; whom God had cursed. Then would he kiss all fatherly and so die— Kneeling, with eyes abased, they made him promise, Swore, at the midpoint of their second day, If unsped in the search of whom he named, They would come hasting home to Adam's tent. They touched his bony fingers; forth they went. Now Seth, shielding his eyes, sees mistily Breaking the horizon thirty miles away (A full day's journey) what but a wisp, a feather, A thin line, half a nothing—distant smoke! Blown smoke, a signal from that utmost ridge Of desolation—the camp fire of Cain. He to restrain his twelve impetuous sons (He knows the razor-edge of their young spirit) Dissembles seeing, turns his steps about, Bids them come follow, but they little heeding, Scarce noting his commands, fasten their eyes On smoke, so forfeit Adam's benediction, Striding forward into the wilderness With eager thighs, forgetful of their oath, Adventurous for this monster, a new man, Their own kin—how accursed?—they haste for wonder. |