In the caverns with his offspring, Sick at heart, upon his back lies Atta Troll; in meditation Licks his paws, and, licking, growls: "Mumma, Mumma, pearl of blackness, Whom I fished from out life's ocean, Is it thus that in life's ocean I am forced again to lose thee! "Might I only once more sniffle That sweet odour, the peculiar, Of my black, my darling Mumma, Fragrant as the scent of roses! "But, alas! my Mumma pineth In the fetters of those rascals, Who, the name of Men assuming, Call themselves Creation's lords. "Mankind, are ye any better Than we others, just because ye Boiled and baked devour your victuals? In a raw state we eat ours. "Children," grumbles Atta Troll, "Children, we must seize the future! If each bear but thought as I do, We should soon subdue the tyrants. "Let the boar but form alliance With the horse, the elephant Coil his trunk with love fraternal Round the valiant bullock's horn; "Bear and wolf of every colour, Goat and monkey; even hares, too, Let them work awhile together, And the victory cannot fail us. "Equal rights for all God's creatures, Be our fundamental maxim; Absolutely no distinction In belief, or skin, or smell. "Strict equality! Ev'ry jackass Competent for highest office; On the other hand, the lion Trotting with the corn to grind." IV Many an honest, virtuous burgher Lives on earth in evil odour, Whilst your princely people reek of Lavender and ambergris. Therefore do not make wry faces, Gentle reader, if the cave of Atta Troll should not remind you Of the spices of Arabia. Tarry with me in the steamy Confines in the dismal odour, Where the hero to his youngest Speaks as if from out a cloud: "Ever shun men's ways of thinking! Not a creature that is decent Can be found among these creatures. Even Germans, once much better, "In primeval times our cousins, These alike are now degen'rate: Traitors to their creed and godless, Now they preach e'en atheism! "Only be no atheist, Like a non-bear who respects not His great Maker--Yes, a Maker Hath this universe created. "Yonder in the starred pavilion, On the golden throne of power, World-controlling and majestic, Sits a giant Polar bear. "At his feet are sitting gentle Sainted bears, who in their life-time Uncomplaining suffered; in their Paws the palm of martyrdom. "Shall I ever, drunk with heaven, Yonder in the starred pavilion, With the Glory, with the palm-branch, Dance before the throne of God?" V Figures twain, morose and baleful, And on all-fours slowly creeping, Break themselves a gloomy passage Through the underwood at midnight.