Schrœder The Fisherman

I sat on the bank above Bernadotte And dropped crumbs in the water, Just to see the minnows bump each other, Until the strongest got the prize. Or I went to my little pasture, Where the peaceful swine were asleep in the wallow, Or nosing each other lovingly, And emptied a basket of yellow corn, And watched them push and squeal and bite, And trample each other to get the corn. And I saw how Christian Dallman’s farm, Of more than three thousand acres, Swallowed the patch of Felix Schmidt, As a bass will swallow a minnow And I say if there’s anything in man— Spirit, or conscience, or breath of God That makes him different from fishes or hogs, I’d like to see it work!