AGAINST an elm a sheep was ty'd, The butcher's knife in blood was dy'd; The patient flock, in silent fright, From far beheld the horrid sight; A savage Boar, who near them stood, Thus mock'd to scorn the fleecy brood. All cowards should be serv'd like you. See, see, your murd'rer is in view: With purple hands and reeking knife He strips the skin yet warm with life: Your quarter'd sires, your bleeding dams, The dying bleat of harmless lambs Call for revenge. O stupid race! The heart that wants revenge is base. I grant, an ancient Ram replys, We bear no terror in our eyes, Yet think us not of soul so tame, Which no repeated wrongs inflame; Insensible of ev'ry ill, Because we want thy tusks to kill. Know, Those who violence pursue Give to themselves the vengeance due, For in these massacres they find The two chief plagues that waste mankind. Our skin supplys the wrangling bar, It wakes their slumbring sons to war, And well revenge may rest contented, Since drums and parchment were invented. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DOWN THE MISSISSIPPI: 7. THE SILENCE by JOHN GOULD FLETCHER WINTER: MY SECRET by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI MURMURINGS IN A FIELD HOSPITAL by CARL SANDBURG STILL FALLS THE RAIN; THE RAIDS, 1940. NIGHT AND DAWN by EDITH SITWELL EIGHT VOLUNTEERS by LANSING C. BAILEY THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 103. WRITTEN AT FLORENCE: 1 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |