The martyrdom of animals,
The tragedy of pain,

The infamous brutalities
To helpless children shown,
The pathos of whose joyless lives
Might melt a heart of stone?

Preeminently merciful,
Does not thy spirit long
To guard from inhumanity
The weak against the strong?

Thou biddest us deal tenderly
With every breathing-thing,--
The horse that drags the heavy load,
The bird upon the wing,

The flocks along the riverside,
The cattle on the lea,
And every living denizen
Of earth and air and sea;

Yet daily in the shambles
A sea of blood is spilled,
And man is nourished chiefly
From beasts that he has killed!

And hunters still find happiness
In seeing, red with wounds,