  A sheep lay tethered, and her life Fast ebbing on the butcher's knife; The silly flock looked on with dread. A wild boar, passing them, then said: "O cowards! cowards! will nought make The courage of your hearts awake? What, with the butcher in your sight, Flaying—ere life be parted quite— Your lambs and dams! O stolid race! Who ever witnessed souls so base?" The patriarch ram then answered him: "My face and bearing are not grim, But we are not of soul so tame As to deny Revenge her claim: We have no whetted tusks to kill, Yet are not powerless of ill. Vengeance, the murdering hand pursues, And retribution claims her dues; She sends the plagues of war and law, Where men will battle for a straw— And our revenge may rest contented, Since drums and parchment were invented." |
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