Jubal sang of the Wrath of God And the curse of thistle and thorn— But Tubal got him a pointed rod, And scrabbled the earth for corn. Old—old as that early mould, Young as the sprouting grain— Yearly green is the strife between Jubal and Tubal Cain Jubal sang of the new-found sea, And the love that its waves divide— But Tubal hollowed a fallen tree And passed to the further side. Black—black as the hurricane-wrack, Salt as the under-main— Bitter and cold is the hate they hold— Jubal and Tubal Cain! Jubal sang of the golden years When wars and wounds shall cease— But Tubal fashioned the hand-flung spears And showed his neighbours peace. New—new as the Nine point Two, Older than Lamech’s slain— Roaring and loud is the feud avowed Twix’ Jubal and Tubal Cain! Jubal sang of the cliffs that bar And the peaks that none may crown— But Tubal clambered by jut and scar And there he builded a town. High—high as the snowsheds lie, Low as the culverts drain— Wherever they be they can never agree— Jubal and Tubal Cain!