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Chewed and rechewed; what stiff bows to the ladies!
My humble thanks for such a life as that!
No, no, these mountebanks had reason greater
To fly to us, here rocked in freedom’s arms
From empty care and self-inflicted fetter
To mother Nature’s breast and life’s pure charms.
To think of us going mimicking these flunkeys!
Rather should they conform to us,—to monkeys!
We’ve stayed as Nature’s soul—as wisest essence
Has fashioned us; why fash ourselves because
Man’s farcicalities in effervescence
Have marred the jollier scheme of heavenly laws.
Disdain your tail, my lord, if you think fit,
I wear mine with delight—I’m proud of it:
Look at its tapering form so gently sportive,
The grace and softness of each supple motion,
In every one it wakens warm devotion
Whose natural sense of beauty’s not abortive.
Its use for life on trees can’t be denied,
’Tis sanctioned, too, by countless generations.
Sires, grandsires, gloried in this train’s gyrations:
’Twas Hanuman the Mighty’s joy and pride
E’en fairest stars through night’s autumnal trail
In lines of glittering light a sparkling tail:
And this choice decoration—we’re to flout it
Merely because mankind is now without it?
And feet, whose fingers free and unimpeded
Are capable of touch, and work if needed,
Why must their poor maimed thumbs, all knobs and sores
Be cramped in Spanish pumps, to slip and fumble
Through mire and dust, with many an awkward tumble;
Nay, rather we, intrepid on all fours,
