And eaten the fruit of the tree;
I have hidden, ashamed, from the face of God,
For I dreamed that He could not see.
The flaming sword of the Angel of Wrath
Has driven me over the earth;
I am marked with the mark of the murderer Cain;
I have travailed at death and at birth.
With patriarch, priest and prophet, I seek for a promised land,
Lead me, brother; follow, me, brother; brother, oh, take my hand!
I am moving onward, and ever on, O brother, I may not stand!