SEA SPRAY &> SMOKE DRIFT 



To our heart's content we may take our fill 

 Of the joys we derive from slaughter. 



And few, I reckon, our rights gainsay 



In this world of rapine and wrong, 

 Where the weak and the timid seem lawful 

 prey 



For the resolute and the strong ; 

 Fins, furs, and feathers, they are and were 



For our use and pleasure created, 

 We can shoot, and hunt, and angle, and snare. 



Unquestioned, if not unsated. 



I have neither the will nor the right to blame, 



Yet to many (though not to all) 

 The sweets of destruction are somewhat tame, 



When no personal risks befall ; 

 Our victims suffer but little, we trust 



(Mere guess work and blank enigma), 

 If they suffer at all, our field sports must 



Of cruelty bear the stigma. 



Shall we, hard-hearted to their fates, thus 



Soft-hearted shrink from our own. 



When the measure we mete is meted to us, 



When we reap as we've always sown ? 



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