Our Hunting Fathers, Op. 8: V. Epilogue and Funeral March

Our hunting fathers told the story

Of the sadness of the creatures

Pitied the limits and the lack

Set in their finished features

Saw in the lion's intolerant look

Behind the quarry's dying glare

Love raging for the personal glory

That reason's gift would add

The liberal appetite and power

The rightness of a god.

Who nurtured in that fine tradition

Predicted the result?

Guessed love by nature suited to

The intricate ways of guilt

That human company could so

His southern gestures modify

And make it his mature ambition

To think no thought but ours

To hunger, work illegally

And be anonymous?