From his accustom'd perch. Hard faring race! They pick their fuel out of ev'ry hedge, Which, kindled with dry leaves, just saves un quench'd The spark of life. The sportive wind blows wide Great skill have they in palmistry, and more Loud when they beg, dumb only when they steal. In human mould, should brutalize by choice By which the world might profit, and himself, Such squalid sloth to honourable toil! Yet even these, though, feigning sickness oft, They swathe the forehead, drag the limping limb, And vex their flesh with artificial sores, Can change their whine into a mirthful note When safe occasion offers; and, with dance, And music of the bladder and the bag, Beguile their woes, and make the woods resound. Such health and gaiety of heart enjoy The houseless rovers of the sylvan world; And, breathing wholesome air, and wand'ring much, Need other physic none to heal th' effects Of loathsome diet, penury, and cold. Blest he, though undistinguish'd from the crowd By wealth or dignity, who dwells secure, Where man, by nature fierce, has laid aside His fierceness, having learnt, though slow to learn, The manners and the arts of civil life. His wants, indeed, are many; but supply Of temp'rate wishes and industrious hands. whole; Not rude and surly, and beset with thorns, Mean self-attachment, and scarce aught beside. Where it advances far into the deep, Towards th' antarctic. II. Ev'n the favour'd isles, Ꭰ So lately found, although the constant sun Cheer all their seasons with a grateful smile, In manners-victims of luxurious ease. These therefore I can pity, plac'd remote In boundless occans, never to be pass'd Or plough'd perhaps by British bark again: Thee, gentle savage! whom no love of thee Or else vain glory, prompted us to draw Forth from thy native bow'rs, to show thee here With what superior skill we can abuse The gifts of Providence, and squander life. a Omia. The dream is past; and thou hast found again Thy cocoas and bananas, palms and yams, And homestall thatch'd with leaves. But hast thou found Their former charms? And, having seen our state, Rude as thou art, (for we return'd thee rude I cannot think thee yet so dull of heart Sweets tasted here, and left as soon as known. And asking of the surge that bathes thy foot I see thee weep, and thine are honest tears, |