There is a wildness still in England that will not feed <br />In cages; it shrinks away from the touch of the trainer's hand, <br />Easy to kill, not easy to tame. It will never breed <br />In a zoo for the public pleasure. It will not be planned. <br /> <br />Do not blame us too much if we that are hedgerow folk <br />Cannot swell the rejoicings at this new world you make - <br />We, hedge-hogged as Johnson or Borrow, strange to the yoke <br />As Landor, surly as Cobbett (that badger), birdlike as Blake. <br /> <br />A new scent troubles the air -- to you, friendly perhaps <br />But we with animal wisdom have understood that smell. <br />To all our kind its message is Guns, Ferrets, and Traps, <br />And a Ministry gassing the little holes in which we dwell.<br /><br />Clive Staples Lewis<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-condemned-5/
