Of mealies and tusks I’d a store.
I was happy, and savage, and free!
Oh, Civilisation! the charms
That sages have seen in thy face,
I have fail’d to observe; but alarms
And dread thou did’st cause in their place.
For I’ve found it is part of thy creed
The blood of the helpless to spill,
And so that thy plans may succeed,
To burn, and to ravish, and kill!