(The animals' point of view, at the Centenary of the Zoological Gardens) Dear friends of feather, fin and fur (The King of Beasts began), The meaning of this hundredth year Is strangely missed by Man. Our Fellows, who we all admit Are erudite and kind, Seem, when you come to think of it, Most singularly blind. They boast they keep us! Fond conceit Which sober facts condemn: For by their annual balance-sheet 'Tis plain that we keep them. These gardens may be theirs in name— That much must be allowed; But if we did not play the game, Who else would draw the crowd? The motion then I rise to move Runs, simply worded, thus:— Whereas their own statistics prove This place is made by us, 'Tis right that, when they hold high feast In honour of the Zoo, They give us all—Fish, Bird and Beast— A special dinner too. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FUCHSIA HEDGES IN CONNACHT by PADRAIC COLUM THE POET by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR SIR GALAHAD by ALFRED TENNYSON THE PRINCESS: SONG by ALFRED TENNYSON THE MORAL FABLES: THE SHEEP AND THE DOG by AESOP A SERIOUS REFLECTION ON HUMAN LIFE, SELECTION by HENRY BAKER |