"Adam's to blame for this," I hear them say.

Our grievous ills," they say, "began with him,

Adam, our father who was cast away

In outer darkness by the seraphim."

But I forgive him for that evil hour

Of disobedient fear and fatal pride,

Old Adam in us is the birthright dower

Neither our fathers nor our sons can hide.

And I forgive him all his virtues, too.

The avenging angel first of all saw clear

His courage, when mortality was new.

Adam's to thank," we never say or hear.

I say, "Praise him. Dislodged, alone, unsure,

Adam was man enough, and would endure."