But man, who turned his prey into a pet,
To outwit hunger, was not baffled yet;
He’d searched for grass so long he’d learned to praise it,
And now that grass was short—why, he could raise it!
His dinner sprouted with the happy spring
Profuse, “The King is dead! Long live the King!”
When man, the farmer, growing very great,
Out of his children built the busy State,
Those greedy children, to his loud alarm,
Pinched all the profits off the old man’s farm,