Hymn of Pity for Broken Birds and Beasts
GREAT God, what tawdry temples We build on earth to Thee On griefs we cannot carry, On woes we will not see— . The tyrannies tremendous That shake our skyward spires, The ruthless wrongs unrighted, That quench our incense-fires
For creatures of Thy making Old laws assigned for use, New freedom stands proclaiming Their rights and ourr-abase : From beasts we scorn as soulless, In forest, field and den, The cry goes up to -witness The soullessness of men.
The dim-eyed creatures dying From shot in brake and Wynn, The brutes that tear in torment Fast held by iron gin, The patient horses straining At loads they cannot haul, Thin cats that starve in cities, Bright birds we hold in thrall,
Fierce beasts we bait in boxes, That fools may louder roar, The timid dogs in training ' For trick; their' hearts abhor, The stock that limps to slaughter Their bodies meat for me, The foxes' forced from refuge, The stags we hound to sea—
Great Cod, what splendid temples Our souls may build again, When self is slain by pity And pride Willed by pain !
Lord Christ, -renew the Vision That brought our hearts release, Till the cries of all Thy creatures Shall turn to songs of peace.
M. FRMA HariEY.
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