University of Virginia Library

A man, together in one cage, immured
A lion and a dog. The dog endured
Long while a world of drear indignities
From that grim housemate; who, without the least
Consideration for his fellow beast,
Stretch'd himself out at ease
In the best places; while the other lay
Crouch'd in a little corner the whole day,
And gnaw'd, with furtive tooth, the bones disdain'd
By his strong neighbour, surfeited; dry bones
Gnaw'd bare already. With reproachful moans
The poor dog oft complain'd,
And of the human master of his fate
Besought release from wretchedness too great
For even canine flesh and blood to bear.
But all in vain. His master heard him not,
Or, hearing, heedless of the creature's lot,
To change it had no care.
Doubtless far weightier cares weigh'd on him. They
Whose daily business is but to obey
Must not be suffer'd to exact from those
Who haply rule the house,—or rule the State,—
Attention to their feelings or their fate.
For what, if some get blows,
While some are pusht on pleasantly? They are
Tools to be used, with no particular
Consideration for the private feeling
Of either implement—though this, rough-handled,
Mops the drench'd flint—that, delicately dandled,
Brushes the gilded ceiling,
Fares soft, rests oft, and wears a plumy crown;
Whilst, soon worn out, the drudging mop is thrown
To rot, at last, behind the scullery door.
Little do those that use them care, I ween,
For broom or mop, who care but to sweep clean
The ceiling and the floor.
And, first of all—as touching this dog's lot;
In all the house there was no other spot
Half so convenient as that lion's cage
Wherein to stow the dog. In the next place,
The lion served to give a sort of grace
To the whole house, engage
Attention to it, and make its master's name
Conspicuous: for which reason, it became
The dignity of that illustrious brute
(Tho', save in this respect, and this alone,
The brute was an entirely useless one,
And mischievous to boot)
That join'd to him should be some other creature
Of meaner mark, and more familiar feature,
To show to best advantage all his strength,
And size, and strangeness, and ferocity.
And so the poor dog had no choice, but try
To bear his fate. At length
The lord of both on a far journey went;
Leaving, together in the same cage pent,
The lion and the dog behind him there.
And, in the absence of their master, few,
If any, gave much notice to the two;
Who did but poorly fare.
But when the man from his long pilgrimage
Return'd at last, in that neglected cage
A wondrous change he marvell'd much to find.
For now it was the lion, lean and tame,
That in a corner crouch'd with surly shame,
And, dog-like, cringed and whined;
Whilst, stretch'd at stately length in the best place,
The dog, with pride becoming better'd case,
(His paw upon a bone) the warning range
Of his suspicious and retentive teeth
Did oft, with supercilious growl, unsheathe.
What caused so great a change?

MORAL.

There's something of a cur that lurks conceal'd
In every lion: something unreveal'd
In every dog of spirit leonine.
Long battle with the overbearing power
Of a brute's senseless selfishness—each hour
That stretch'd the strengthening line
Of wrongs resisted,—had at last aroused
The something of a lion, nature housed
In the dog's heart, and made the dog at length
Superior to superiority
Wasted for want of aught its strength to try
Save one of weaker strength:
As power, meanwhile, by sheer abuse of power,
Degenerating daily low and lower,
Had dragg'd the lion's nature from above,
Down to that coward something of a cur
Which lurks in every lion's character,
Like lust, subdued, in love.
'Tis thus that many a small and feeble state,
Striving for justice, hath at last grown great:
Whilst many an empire opulent and vast,
Down from the eminence, its selfishness
Disgraces, sinking slow to less and less,
Dwindles and dies at last.