The Parable of the Old Man and the Young
So Abram rose, and clave the wood, and went,
And took the fire with him, and a knife.
And as they sojourned both of them together,
Isaac the first-born spake and said, My Father,
Behold the preparations, fire and iron,
But where the lamb for this burnt-offering?
Then Abram bound the youth with belts and strops,
And builded parapets and trenches there,
And stretched forth the knife to slay his son.
When lo! an angel called him out of heaven,
Saying, Lay not thy hand upon the lad,
Neither do anything to him. Behold,
A ram, caught in a thicket by its horns;
Offer the Ram of Pride instead of him.
But the old man would not so, but slew his son,
And half the seed of Europe, one by one.
Wilfred Owen's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (The Parable of the Old Man and the Young by Wilfred Owen )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
William Ernest Henley
Did you read them?
- Colors Of The Rainbow, Anthony Daniels
- Hiccup, binod bastola
- Life and death..how we come and how we g.., krishnakumar chandrasekar nair
- You need me, gajanan mishra
- Infractions Rained Down Tears, mary douglas
- poetic shenanigans, lee fones
- Homecoming, prasenjit banerjee
- She knows now, hasmukh amathalal
- I am on the top, gajanan mishra
- Invocation, Hans Raj Sharma