I am a gentle Anarchist, <br />I couldn't kick a dog, <br />Nor ever would for sport assist <br />To pelt the helpless frog. <br />I'd shoot a Czar, or wreck a train, <br />Blow Parliament sky-high, <br />But none could call me inhumane; <br />I wouldn't hurt a fly. <br />I wouldn't hurt a fly, <br />And why indeed should I? <br />It has neither land nor pelf <br />That I covet for myself, <br />Then wherefore should I hurt a fly? <br /> <br />I am a gentle Anarchist, <br />I live on herbs and fruits; <br />It don't become a communist <br />To eat his fellow-brutes. <br />I'd fire a town, upset a state, <br />Make countless widows weep, <br />Yet I am so compassionate <br />I wouldn't kill a sheep, <br />I wouldn't hurt a fly; <br />And why indeed should I? <br />If it doesn't interfere <br />With my personal career, <br />Why the dickens should I hurt a fly? <br /> <br />I'm such a gentle Anarchist <br />I hate all hunting men; <br />I couldn't hook a fish, or twist <br />The neck of cock or hen. <br />I'd level gaols, let scoundrels loose, <br />Blow priests and churches up— <br />But, oh, my pity's so profuse <br />I couldn't drown a pup. <br />I wouldn't hurt a fly; <br />And why indeed should I? <br />Unless, that is to say, <br />I found it in my way, <br />And then it's all up with the fly.<br /><br />James Brunton Stephens<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-gentle-anarchist/
