Bliss Carman, et al., eds. The World’s Best Poetry. 1904.
Poems of Sentiment: IV. Thought: Poetry: BooksÆsop
Andrew Lang (18441912)H
The sylvan merriment; he saw
The pranks of butterfly and bird,
The humors of the ape, the daw.
In all the life of moor and fen,—
In ass and peacock, stork and dog,
He read similitudes of men.
Our hearts, our brains descend from these.”
And, lo! the Beasts no more were dumb,
But answered out of brakes and trees:
If ours at all,” they cried again,
“Ye fools, who war with God and Fate,
Who strive and toil; strange race of men.
For we have neither slaves nor kings;
But near to Nature’s heart are we,
And conscious of her secret things.
And well content to wake no more;
We do not laugh, we do not weep,
Nor look behind us and before:
’T is we, not you, should sigh or scorn,
Oh, latest children of the Earth,
Most childish children Earth has born.”
They spoke, but that misshapen slave
Told never of the thing he heard,
And unto men their portraits gave,
In likenesses of beast and bird!