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 stockdove 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 neighboring 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 Where 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, [haunts The creatures, summoned from their various 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 obeyed 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 rules the whole, Begat a tranquil confidence in all,
And fear as yet was not, nor cause to 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 [heart, Thy groves and lawns then witness'd! Every 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 victin 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 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 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? None. He lives, and o'er his brimming beaker boasts (As if barbarity were high desert) The inglorious feat, and clamorous in praise Of the poor brute, seems wisely to suppose The honors 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
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 honor, 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
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 [earn'd Incurable obduracy evinced, His rage grew cool; and pleased perhaps to have 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 is the course of rash and fiery men.) The rude companion smiled, as if transform'd. But 'twas a transient calm. A storm was near, An unsuspected storm. His hour was come. The impious challenger of power divine [wrath, Was now to learn that Heaven, though slow to Is never with impunity defied.
His horse, as he had caught his master's mood, Snorting, and starting into sudden rage, Unbidden, and not now to be controll'd, Rush'd to the cliff, and, having reach'd it, stood. At once the shock unseated hun: he flew Sheer o'er the craggy barrier; and, immersed
Deep in the flood, found, when he sought it not, The death he had deserved, and died alone. So God wrought double justice; made the fool The victim of his own tremendous choice, And taught a brute the way to safe revenge.
I would not enter on my list of friends [sense, (Though graced with polish'd manners and fine Yet wanting sensibility) the man Who needlessly sets foot upon a worm. An inadvertent step may crush the snail That crawls at evening in the public path: But he that has humanity, forewarn'd, Will tread aside, and let the reptile live. The creeping vermin, loathso.ne to the sight, And charged perhaps with venom, that intrudes, A visitor unwelcome, into scenes
Sacred to neatness, and repose, the alcove, The chamber, or refectory, may die: A necessary act incurs no blame.
Not so when, held within their proper bounds, And guiltless of offence, they range the air, Or take their pastime in the spacious field: There they are privileged; and he that hunts Or harms them there is guilty of a wrong, Disturbs the economy of Nature's realm, Who, when she form'd, design'd them an abode. • The sum is this. If man's convenience, health, Or safety interiere, his rights and claims Are paramount, and must extinguish theirs. Else they are all-the meanest things that are, As free to live, and to enjoy that life, As God was free to form them at the first, Who in his sovereign wisdom made them all. Ye therefore, who love mercy, teach your sons To love it too. The spring-time of our years Is soon dishonor'd and defiled in most, By budding ills, that ask a prudent hand To check them. But, alas! none sooner shoots, If unrestrain'd, into luxuriant growth, Than cruelty, most devilish of them all. Mercy to him that shows it is the rule And righteous limitation of its act.
By which Heaven moves in pardoning guilty man; And he that shows none, being ripe in years, And conscious of the outrage he commits, Shall seek it and not find it in his turn. Distinguish'd much by reason, and still more By our capacity of grace divine,
From creatures that exist but for our sake, Which having served us, perish, we are held Accountable; and God, some future day, Will reckon with us roundly for the abuse Of what he deems no mean or trivial trust. Superior as we are they yet depend Not more on human help than we on theirs. Their strength or speed, or vigilance, were given In aid of our defects. In some are found Such teachable and apprehensive parts, That man's attainments in his own concerns, Match'd with the expertness of the brutes in theirs,
Are ofttimes vanquish'd and thrown far behind. Sone show that nice sagacity of smell. And read with such discernaient in the port And figure of the man, his secret aim, That out we owe our safety to a skill
We could not teach and must despair to learn. But learn we might if not too proud to stoop To quadruped instructors many a good And useful quality and virtue too Rarely exemplified among ourselves- Attachment never to be wean'd or changed
By any change of fortune; proof alike Against unkindness. absence, and neglect; Fidelity, that neither bribe nor threat Can move or warp; and gratitude for small, And trivial favors, lasting as the life And glistening even in the dying eye.
Man praises man. Desert in arts or arms Wins public honor; and ten thousand sit Patiently present at a sacred song, Commemoration-mad; content to hear (0 wonderful effect of music's power!) Messiah's eulogy for Handel's sake.
But less methinks than sacrilege might serve- (For was it less, what heathen would have dared To strip Jove's statue of his oaken wreath, And hang it up in honor of a man?) Much less might serve, when all that we design It but to gratify an itching ear,
And give the day to a musician's praise. Remember Handel? Who that was not born Deaf as the dead to harmony, forgets, Or can, the more than Homer of his age ? Yes-we remember him; and while we praise A talent so divine remember too That His most holy book, from whom it came, Was never meant was never used before, To buckram out the memory of a man. But hush!-the muse perhaps is too severe; And, with a gravity beyond the size And measure of the offence rebukes a deed' Less impious than absurd, and owing more To want of judgment than to wrong design. So in the chapel of old Ely House, [third, When wandering Charles, who meant to be the Had fled from William, and the news was fresh, The simple clerk but loyal, did announce, And eke did rear right merrily, two staves, Sung to the praise and glory of King George! -Man praises man; and Garrick's memory next, When time hath somewhat mellow'd it, and made The idol of our worship while he lived The god of our idolatry once more, Shall have its altar; and the world shall go In pilgrimage to bow before his shrine. The theatre, too small, shall suffocate Its squeezed contents and more than it admits Shall sigh at their exclusion, and return Ungratified: for there some noble lord [bunch, Shall stuff his shoulders with king Richard's Or wrap himself in Hamlet's inky cloak. [stare, And strut and storm and straddle, stamp and To show the world how Garrick did not act- For Garrick was a worshipper himself; He drew the liturgy, and framed the rites And solemn ceremonial of the day, And call'd the world to worship on the banks Of Avon, famed in song. Ah pleasant proof That piety had still in human hearts Some place, a spark or two not yet extinct. The mulberry-tree was hung with blooming wreaths;
The mulberry-tree stood centre of the dance; The mulberry-tree was bynn'd with dulcet airs; And from his touchwood trunk the mulberry-tree Supplied such relics as devotion holds Still sacred and preserves with pious care. So 'twas a hallow'd time: decorum reign'd, And mirth without offence. No few return'd, Doubtless much edified, and all refresh'd.
-Man praises man. The rabble all alive, From tippling benches, cellars, stalls, and styes, Swarm in the streets. The statesman of the day
A pompous and slow-moving pageant, comes. Some shout him, and some hang upon his car. To gaze in his eyes, and bless him. Maidens
Their kerchiefs, and old women weep for joy; While others, not so satisfied, unhorse The gilded equipage, and turning loose His steeds, usurp a place they well deserve. Why? what has charm'd them? Hath he saved the state?
No. Doth he purpose its salvation? No. Enchanting novelty, that moon at full, That finds out every crevice of the head That is not sound and perfect. hath in theirs Wrought this disturbance. But the wane is near And his own cattle must suffice him soon. Thus idly do we waste the breath of praise, And dedicate a tribute in its use And just direction sacred, to a thing Doom'd to the dust or lodged already there. Encomium in old time was poet's work; But poets, having lavishly long since Exhausted all materials of the art, The task now falls into the public hand; And I, contented with an humble theme, Have pour'd my stream of panegyric down The vale of Nature, where it creeps and winds Among her lovely works with a secure And unambitious course, reflecting clear, If not the virtues, yet the worth, of brutes. And I am recompensed, and deem the toils Of poetry not lost if verse of mine May stand between an animal and woe, And teach one tyrant pity for his drudge.
The groans of Nature in this nether world, Which heaven has heard for ages, have an end. Foretold by prophets, and by pocts sung, Whose fire was kindled at the prophets' lamp, The time of rest, the promised sabbath. comes. Six thousand years of sorrow have well nigh Fulfill'd their tardy and disastrous course Over a sinful world; and what remains Of this tempestuous state of human things Is merely as the working of a sea Before a calm, that rocks itself to rest;
For He, whose car the winds are, and the clouds The dust that waits upon his sultry march, When sin hath moved him, and his wrath is hot, Shall visit earth in mercy; shall descend Propitious in his chariot paved with love; And what his storms have blasted and defaced For man's revolt, shall with a smile repair.
Sweet is the harp of prophecy; too sweet Not to be wrong'd by a mere mortal touch: Nor can the wonders it records be sung To meaner music, and not suffer loss. But when a poet or when one like me, Happy to rove among poetic flowers, Though poor in skill to rear them, lights at last On some fair theme, some theme divinely fair, Such is the impulse and the spur he feels, To give it praise proportion'd to its worth, That not to attempt it, arduous as he deems The labor, were a task more arduous still.
Or fertile only in its own disgrace, Exults to see its thistly curse repeal'd. The various seasons woven into one, And that one season an eternal spring. The garden fears no blight, and needs no fence, For there is none to covet, all are full. The lion, and the libbard and the bear Graze with the fearless flocks; all bask at noon Together, or all gambol in the shade Of the same grove, and drink one common stream, Antipathies are none. No foe to man
Lurks in the serpent now: the mother sees, And smiles to see, her infant's playful hand Stretch'd forth to dally with the crested worn, To stroke his azure neck or to receive The lambent homage of his arrowy tongue. All creatures worship man, and all mankind One Lord, one Father. Error has no place; That creeping pestilence is driven away; The breath of heaven has chased it. In the hear No passion touches a discordant string But all is harmony and love. Disease Is not the pure uncontaminate blood Holds its due course, nor fears the frost of age. One song employs all nations: and all cry, "Worthy the Lamb, for he was slain for us!" The dwellers in the vales and on the rocks Shout to each other, and the mountain tops From distant mountains catch the flying joy; Till nation after nation taught the strain, Earth rolls the rapturous Hosanna round. Behold the measure of the promise fill'd; See Salem built the labor of a God; Bright as a sun, the sacred city shines; All kingdoms and all princes of the earth Flock to that light; the glory of all lands Flows into her; unbounded is her joy, And endless her increase. Thy rams are there, Nebaioth, and the flocks of Kedar there;* The looms of Ormus, and the mines of Ind, And Saba's spicy groves, pay tribute there. Praise is in all her gates: upon her walls. And in her streets, and in her spacious courts,
Is heard salvation. Eastern Java there
Kneels with the native of the farthest west; And Ethiopia spreads abroad the hand. And worships. Her report has travell'd forth Into all lands. From every clime they come To see thy beauty, and to share thy joys, O Sion! an assembly such as earth Saw never, such as Heaven stoops down to see.
Thus heavenward all things tend. For all were Perfect and all must be at length restored. [once So God has greatly purposed; who would else In his dishonor'd works himself endure Dishonor, and be wrong'd without redress. Haste, then, and wheel away a shatter'd world. Ye slow-revolving seasons! we would see (A sight to which our eyes are strangers yet) A world that does not dread and hate his law And suffer for its crime; would learn how fair The creature is that God pronounces good, How pleasant in itself what pleases him. Here every drop of honey hides a sting; Worms wind themselves into our sweetest flowers; And e'en the joy that haply some poor heart Derives from heaven pure as the fountain is, Is sullied in the stream, taking a taint
O scenes surpassing fable, and yet true, Scenes of accomplish'd bliss! which who can see, Though but in distant prospect, and not feel His soul refresh'd with foretaste of the joy? Rivers of gladness water all the earth, And clothe all climes with beauty; the reproach Of barrenness is past. The fruitiul field [lean, genitors of the Arabs, in the prophetic scripture here al
Laughs with abundance; and the land, once
*Nebaioth and Kedar, the sons of Ishmael, and pro
Tuded to, may be reasonably considered as representa tives of the Gentiles at large.
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