PROGRESS OF MAN.
Lo! the rude savage, free from civil strife,[[139]]
Keeps the smooth tenour of his guiltless life;
Restrain’d by none, save Nature’s lenient laws,
Quaffs the clear stream, and feeds on hips and haws.
Light to his daily sports behold him rise!
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The bloodless banquet health and strength supplies.[[140]]
Bloodless not long—one morn he haps to stray[[141]]
Through the lone wood—and close beside the way
Sees the gaunt tiger tear his trembling prey;
Beneath whose gory fangs a leveret bleeds,
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Or pig—such pig as fertile China breeds.[[142]]
Struck with the sight, the wondering savage stands,
Rolls his broad eyes, and clasps his lifted hands!
Then restless roams—and loaths his wonted food;
Shuns the salubrious stream, and thirsts for blood.
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By thought matured, and quicken’d by desire,[[143]]
New arts, new arms, his wayward wants require.
From the tough yew a slender branch he tears,
With self-taught skill the twisted grass[[144]] prepares;
Th’ unfashioned bow, with labouring efforts bends
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In circling form, and joins th’ unwilling ends.
Next some tall reed he seeks—with sharp-edg’d stone
Shapes the fell dart, and points with whiten’d bone.[[145]]
Then forth he fares. Around in careless play,
Kids, pigs, and lambkins unsuspecting stray;
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With grim delight he views the sportive band,
Intent on blood, and lifts his murderous hand.
Twangs the bent bow—resounds the fateful dart,
Swift-wing’d, and trembles in a porker’s heart.
Ah, hapless porker! what can now avail[[146]]
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Thy back’s stiff bristles, or thy curly tail?
Ah! what avail those eyes so small and round,
Long pendent ears, and snout that loves the ground?[[147]]
Not unreveng’d thou diest!—in after times[[148]]
From thy spilt blood shall spring unnumber’d crimes.
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Soon shall the slaught’rous arms that wrought thy woe,
Improved by malice, deal a deadlier blow;[[149]]
When social man shall pant for nobler game,
And ’gainst his fellow man the vengeful weapon aim.
As love, as gold, as jealousy inspires,[[150]]
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As wrathful hate, or wild ambition fires,
Urged by the statesman’s craft, the tyrant’s rage,
Embattled nations endless wars shall wage,
Vast seas of blood the ravaged field shall stain,
And millions perish—that a king may reign!
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For blood once shed, new wants and wishes rise;[[151]]
Each rising want invention quick supplies.
To roast his victuals is man’s next desire,
So two dry sticks he rubs, and lights a fire.
Hail fire, &c. &c.
