What worlds hast thou produc'd, what creatures fram'd,
What insects cherish'd, that thy God is blam'd?
When [29]pain'd with hunger, the wild raven's brood
Loud calls on God, importunate for food,
Who hears their cry, who grants their hoarse request,
And stills the clamour of the craving nest?
Who in the stupid ostrich[30] has subdu'd
A parent's care, and fond inquietude?
While far she flies, her scatter'd eggs are found,
Without an owner, on the sandy ground;