Who pant with application misapplied To trivial joys, and pushing ivory balls Across a velvet level, feel a joy
Akin to rapture, when the bauble finds Its destined goal of difficult access.
Nor deems he wiser him, who gives his noon To miss, the mercer's plague, from shop to shop Wandering, and littering with unfolded silks The polish'd counter, and approving none, Or promising with smiles to call again. Nor him who, by his vanity seduced, And soothed into a dream that he discerns The difference of a Guido from a daub, Frequents the crowded auction: station'd there As duly as the Langford of the show, With glass at eye, and catalogue in hand, And tongue accomplish'd in the fulsome cant And pedantry that coxcombs learn with ease: Oft as the price-deciding hammer falls, He notes it in his book, then raps his box, Swears 'tis a bargain, rails at his hard fate That he has let it pass-but never bids.
Here unmolested, through whatever sign The sun proceeds, I wander. Neither mist, Nor freezing sky nor sultry, checking me, Nor stranger intermeddling with my joy. E'en in the spring and playtime of the year, That calls the unwonted villager abroad With all her little ones, a sportive train, To gather kingcups in the yellow mead, And prink their hair with daisies, or to pick A cheap but wholesome salad from the brook, These shades are all my own. The timorous hare, Grown so familiar with her frequent guest, Scarce shuns me; and the stock dove unalarm'd Sits cooing in the pine-tree, nor suspends His long love-ditty for my near approach. Drawn from his refuge in some lonely elm, That age or injury has hollow'd deep, Where, on his bed of wool and matted leaves, He has outslept the winter, ventures forth To frisk awhile, and bask in the warm sun, The squirrel, flippant, pert, and full of play: He sees me, and at once, swift as a bird,
Ascends the neighbouring beech; there whisks his brush, And perks his ears, and stamps, and cries aloud,
With all the prettiness of feign'd alarm,
And anger insignificantly fierce.
The heart is hard in nature, and unfit
For human fellowship, as being void Of sympathy, and therefore dead alike
To love and friendship both, that is not pleased With sight of animals enjoying life,
Nor feels their happiness augment his own.
The bounding fawn, that darts across the glade When none pursues, through mere delight of heart, And spirits buoyant with excess of glee;
The horse as wanton and almost as fleet, That skims the spacious meadow at full speed, Then stops and snorts, and, throwing high his heels, Starts to the voluntary race again;
The very kine that gambol at high noon, The total herd receiving first from one That leads the dance a summons to be gay, Though wild their strange vagaries and uncouth Their efforts, yet resolved with one consent To give such act and utterance as they may To ecstacy too big to be suppress'd;- These, and a thousand images of bliss, With which kind Nature graces every scene, Where cruel man defeats not her design, Impart to the benevolent, who wish All that are capable of pleasure pleased, A far superior happiness to theirs, The comfort of a reasonable joy.
Man scarce had risen, obedient to His call Who form'd him from the dust, his future grave, When he was crown'd as never king was since. God set the diadem upon his head,
And angel choirs attended. Wondering stood The new-made monarch, while before him pass'd, All happy, and all perfect in their kind,
The creatures, summon'd from their various haunts To see their sovereign, and confess his sway. Vast was his empire, absolute his power,
Or bounded only by a law, whose force 'Twas his sublimest privilege to feel
And own, the law of universal love.
He ruled with meekness, they obey'd with joy ;
No cruel purpose lurk'd within his heart,
And no distrust of his intent in theirs.
So Eden was a scene of harmless sport,
Where kindness on his part, who ruled the whole,
Begat a tranquil confidence in all,
And fear as yet was not, nor cause for fear, But sin marr'd all; and the revolt of man, That source of evils not exhausted yet,
Was punish'd with revolt of his from him. Garden of God, how terrible the change
Thy groves and lawns then witness'd! Every heart, Each animal, of every name, conceived
A jealousy and an instinctive fear,
And, conscious of some danger, either fled Precipitate the loathed abode of man, Or growl'd defiance in such angry sort, As taught him too to tremble in his turn. Thus harmony and family accord
Were driven from Paradise; and in that hour
The seeds of cruelty, that since have swell'd To such gigantic and enormous growth, Were sown in human nature's fruitful soil. Hence date the persecution and the pain That man inflicts on all inferior kinds, Regardless of their plaints. To make him sport To gratify the frenzy of his wrath, Or his base gluttony, are causes good
And just in his account, why bird and beast Should suffer torture, and the streams be dyed With blood of their inhabitants impaled. Earth groans beneath the burden of a war Waged with defenceless innocence, while he, Not satisfied to prey on all around,
Adds tenfold bitterness to death by pangs Needless, and first torments ere he devours. Now happiest they that occupy the scenes The most remote from his abhorr'd resort, Whom once, as delegate of God on earth, They fear'd, and as his perfect image loved. The wilderness is theirs, with all its caves, Its hollow glens, its thickets, and its plains, Unvisited by man. There they are free, And howl and roar as likes them, uncontroll'd; Nor ask his leave to slumber or to play. Woe to the tyrant, if he dare intrude Within the confines of their wild domain ! The lion tells him-I am monarch here! And, if he spare him, spares him on the terms Of royal mercy, and through generous scorn To rend a victim trembling at his foot. In measure, as by force of instinct drawn, Or by necessity constrain'd, they live Dependent upon man; those in his fields, These at his crib, and some beneath his roof; They prove too often at how dear a rate He sells protection. Witness at his foot The spaniel dying for some venial fault, Under dissection of the knotted scourge; Witness the patient ox, with stripes and yells Driven to the slaughter, goaded, as he runs, To madness; while the savage at his heels Laughs at the frantic sufferer's fury, spent Upon the guiltless passenger o'erthrown. He too is witness, noblest of the train That wait on man, the flight-performing horse With unsuspecting readiness he takes His murderer on his back, and, push'd all day, With bleeding sides and flanks that heave for life, To the far-distant goal, arrives and dies. So little mercy shows who needs so much! Does law, so jealous in the cause of man, Denounce no doom on the delinquent? He lives, and o'er his brimming beaker
(As if barbarity were high desert)
The inglorious feat, and clamorous in praise Of the poor brute, seems wisely to suppose The honours of his matchless horse his own. But many a crime deem'd innocent on earth Is register'd in heaven; and these no doubt Have each their record, with a curse annex'd. Man may dismiss compassion from his heart, But God will never. When he charged the Jew To assist his foe's down-fallen beast to rise; And when the bush-exploring boy that seized The young, to let the parent bird go free; Proved he not plainly that his meaner works Are yet his care, and have an interest all, All, in the universal Father's love? On Noah, and in him on all mankind, The charter was conferr'd, by which we hold The flesh of animals in fee, and claim O'er all we feed on power of life and death. But read the instrument, and mark it well: The oppression of a tyrannous control
Can find no warrant there. Feed then, and yield Thanks for thy food. Carnivorous, through sin, Feed on the slain, but spare the living brute! The Governor of all, himself to all
So bountiful, in whose attentive ear The unfledged raven and the lion's whelp Plead not in vain for pity on the pangs Of hunger unassuaged, has interposed, Not seldom, his avenging arm, to smite The injurious trampler upon Nature's law, That claims forbearance even for a brute. He hates the hardness of a Balaam's heart; And, prophet as he was, he might not strike The blameless animal, without rebuke, On which he rode. Her opportune offence Saved him, or the unrelenting seer had died. He sees that human equity is slack
To interfere, though in so just a cause; And makes the task his own. Inspiring dumb And helpless victims with a sense so keen
Of injury, with such knowledge of their strength, And such sagacity to take revenge,
That oft the beast has seem'd to judge the man. An ancient, not a legendary tale,
By one of sound intelligence rehearsed
(If such who plead for Providence may seem In modern eyes), shall make the doctrine clear.
Where England, stretch'd towards the setting sun, Narrow and long, o'erlooks the western wave, Dwelt young Misagathus; a scorner he Of God and goodness, atheist in ostent, Vicious in act, in temper savage-fierce. He journey'd; and his chance was as he went
To join a traveller, of far different note, Evander, famed for piety, for years Deserving honour, but for wisdom more. Fame had not left the venerable man A stranger to the manners of the youth, Whose face too was familiar to his view. Their way was on the margin of the land, O'er the green summit of the rocks, whose base Beats back the roaring surge, scarce heard so high. The charity that warm'd his heart was moved At sight of the man monster. With a smile, Gentle and affable, and full of grace,
As fearful of offending whom he wish'd Much to persuade, he plied his ear with truths Not harshly thunder'd forth, or rudely press'd, But, like his purpose, gracious, kind, and sweet. "And dost thou dream," the impenetrable man Exclaimed, "that me the lullabies of age, And fantasies of dotards such as thou, Can cheat, or move a moment's fear in me? Mark now the proof I give thee, that the brave Need no such aids as superstition lends,
To steel their hearts against the dread of death." He spoke, and to the precipice at hand Push'd with a madman's fury. Fancy shrinks, And the blood thrills and curdles at the thought Of such a gulf as he design'd his grave. But though the felon on his back could dare The dreadful leap, more rational, his steed Declined the death, and wheeling swiftly round, Or e'er his hoof had press'd the crumbling verge, Baffled his rider, saved against his will. The frenzy of the brain may be redress'd By medicine well applied, but without grace The heart's insanity admits no cure.
Enraged the more by what might have reform'd His horrible intent, again he sought Destruction, with a zeal to be destroy'd, With sounding whip, and rowels dyed in blood. But still in vain. The Providence, that meant A longer date to the far nobler beast,
Spared yet again the ignobler for his sake. And now his prowess proved, and his sincere Incurable obduracy evinced,
His rage grew cool; and pleased perhaps to have earn's
So cheaply the renown of that attempt,
With looks of some complacence he resumed His road, deriding much the blank amaze Of good Evander, still where he was left Fix'd motionless, and petrified with dread. So on they fared. Discourse on other themes Ensuing seem'd to obliterate the past; And tamer far for so much fury shown (As in the course of rash and fiery men),
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