INCLUSIVE EDITION, 1885-1918 635
The torn boughs trailing o'er the tusks aslant, The saplings reeling in the path he trod, Declare his might our lord the Elephant, Chief of the ways of God.
The black bulk heaving where the oxen pant, The bowed head toiling where the guns careen, Declare our might our slave the Elephant And servant of the Queen.
The Elephant.
Dark children of the mere and marsh, Wallow and waste and lea, Outcaste they wait at the village gate With folk of low degree.
Their pasture is in no man's land, Their food the cattle's scorn, Their rest is mire and their desire The thicket and the thorn.
But woe to those that break their sleep, And woe to those that dare To rouse the herd-bull from his keep, The wild boar from his lair!
Pigs and Buffaloes.
The beasts are very wise, Their mouths are clean of lies, They talk one to the other, Bullock to bullock's brother Resting after their labours, Each in stall with his neighbours. But man with goad and whip,
Breaks up their fellowship,