CANTO VI
Yet for man who forms the higher
Class of animals 'twere well
That betimes he should discover
What the lower thinks of him.
Verily within those drear
Strata of the world of brutes,
In those lower social layers
There is misery, pride and wrath.
Laws which Nature hath decreed,
Customs sanctioned long by Time,
And for centuries established,
They deny with pertest tongue.
Grumbling, there the old instil
Evil doctrines in the young,
Doctrines which endanger all
Human culture on the Earth.
"Children!" grunts our Atta Troll,
As he tosses to and fro
On his hard and stony couch,
"Future time we hold in fee!
"If each bear, each quadruped,
Held with me a like ideal,
With our whole united force
We the tyrant might engage.
"Compact then the boar should make
With the horse—the elephant
Curve his trunk in comradeship
Round the valiant ox's horns.
"Bear and wolf of every shade,
Goat and ape, the rabbit, too.
Let them for the common cause
Labour—and the world is ours!
"Union! union! is the need
Of our times! For singly we
Fall as slaves, but joined as one
We shall overcome our lords.
"Union! union! Victory!
We shall overthrow the reign
Of such tyranny and found
One great Kingdom of the Brutes.
"And its first great law shall be
For God's creatures one and all
Equal rights—no matter what
Be their faith, or hide or smell.
"Strict equality! Each ass
May become Prime Minister;
On the other hand the lion
Shall bear corn unto the mill.
"And the dog? Alas, 'tis true
He's a very servile cur,
Just because for ages man
Like a dog has treated him.
"Yet in our Free State shall he
Once again enjoy his rights—
Rights most unassailable—
Thus ennobled be the dog.
"Yea, the very Jews shall win
All the rights of citizens,
By the law made equal with
Every other mammal free.
"One thing only be denied them!
Dancing in the market-place;
This amendment I shall make
In the interests of my art.
"For they lack all sense of style;
All plasticity of limb
Lacks that race. Full surely they
Would debauch the public taste."

CANTO VII
Gloomy in his gloomy cave,
In the circle of his home,
Crouches Troll, the Foe of Man,
As he growls and champs his jaws.
"Men, O crafty, pert canaille!
Smile away! That mighty hour
Dawns wherein we shall be freed
From your bondage and your smiles!
"Most offensive was to me
That same twitching bitter-sweet
Of the lips—the smiles of men
I found unendurable!
"When in every visage white
I beheld that fatal spasm,
Then did anger seize my bowels
And I felt a hideous qualm.
"For the smiling lips of men
More insultingly declare,
Even than their lips avouch,
All their insolence of soul.
"And they smile forever! Even
When all decency demands
Gravity—as in the moments
Of love's solemn mysteries.
"Yea, they smile forever. Even
In their dances!—desecrate
Thus this high and noble art
Which a sacred cult should be.
"Ah, the dance in olden days
Was a pious act of faith,
When the priests in solemn round
Turned about their holy shrines.
"Thus before the Covenant's
Sacred Ark King David danced.
Dancing then was worship too,—
It was praying with the legs!
"So did I regard my dance
When before the people all
In the market-place I danced
And was cheered by every soul.
"This applause, I grant you, oft
Made me feel content at heart;
Sweet it is from grudging foes
Admiration thus to win!
"Yet despite their rapture they
Still would smile and smile! My art—
Even that proved vain to save
Them from base frivolity!"