Whence she avoids the slimy marsh, and knows
The fertile hills, where sweeter herbage grows,
And honey-making flow'rs their op'ning buds dis-
close?
How, from the thicken'd mist and setting sun J45
Finds she the labour of her day is done?
Who taught her against winds and rains to strive,
To bring her burden to the certain hive,
And thro' the liquid fields again to pass
Duteous, and hark'ning to the sounding brass? 150
And, O thou Sluggard? tell me why the ant,
'Midst summer's plenty thinks of winter's want
By constant journies careful to prepare
Her stores, and bringing home the corny ear,
By what instruction does she bite the grain,
Lest hid in earth, and taking root again,
It might elude the foresight of her care?
Distinct in either insect's deed appear
The marks of thought, contrivance, hope, and fear.
Fix thy corporeal and internal eye
On the young gnat, or new-engender'd fly,
Or the vile worm, that yesterday began
To crawl, thy fellow-creatures, abject man!
Like theethey breathe, they move, they taste, they see, They show their passions, by their acts, like thee; Darting their stings, they previously declare
Design'd revenge, and fierce intent of war:
Laying their eggs, they evidently prove
The genial pow'r and full effect of love.
Each, then, has organs to digest his food,
One to beget, and one receive the brood;
Has limbs, and sinews, blood, and heart, and brain,
Life, and her proper functions to sustain,
Tho' the whole fabric smaller than a grain.
What more can our penurious reason grant
To the large whale or castled elephant?
To those enormous terrors of the Nile,
The crested snake, and long-tailed crocodile,
Than that all differ, but in shape and name,
Each destin'd to a less or larger frame?
For potent Nature loves a various act,
Prone to enlarge, or studious to contract;
Now forms her work too small, now too immense,
And scorns the measures of our feeble sense.
The object, spread too far, or rais'd too high,
Denies its real image to the eye;
Too little, it eludes the dazzled sight,
Becomes mixt blackness or unparted light.
Water and air the varied form confound;
The straight looks crooked, and the square grows
Thus while with fruitless hope and weary pain,
We seek great Nature's power, but seek in vain,
Safe sits the goddess in her dark retreat,
Around her myriads of ideas wait,
And endless shapes, which the mysterious queen
Can take or quit, can alter or retain,
As from our lost pursuit she wills to hide
Her close decrees, and chasten human pride.
Untam'd and fierce the tiger still remains ;
He tires his life in biting on his chains:
For the kind gifts of water and of food
Ungrateful, and returning ill for good,
He seeks his keeper's flesh, and thirsts his blood:
While the strong camel and the gen❜rous horse,
Restrain'd and aw'd by man's inferior force,
Do to the rider's will their rage submit,
And answer to the spur, and own the bit;
Stretch their glad mouths to meet the feeder's hand,
Pleas'd with his weight, and proud of his command.
Again the lonely fox roams far abroad,
On secret rapine bent, and midnight fraud;
Now haunts the cliff, now traverses the lawn,
And flies the hated neighbourhood of man;
While the kind spaniel and the faithful hound,
Likest that fox in shape and species found,
Refuses through these cliffs and lawns to roam;
Pursues the noted path, and covets home.
Does with kind joy domestic faces meet,
Takes what the glutted child denies to eat,
And dying, licks his long-lov'd master's feet. 220
By what immediate cause they are inclin❜d,
In many acts, 'tis hard, I own, to find.
I see in others, or I think I see,
That strict their principles and ours agree.
Evil, like us, they shun, and covet good,
Abhor the poison, and receive the food:
Like us they love or hate; like us they know
To joy the friend, or grapple with the foe.
With seeming thought their action they intend,
And use the means proportion'd to the end.
Then vainly the philosopher avers
That reason guides our deed, and instinct theirs.
How can we justly diff'rent causes frame,
When the effects entirely are the same?
Instinct and reason how can we divide?
'Tis the fool's ign'rance and the pedant's pride.
With the same folly, sure, man vaunts his sway,
If the brute beast refuses to obey.
For, tell me, when the empty boaster's word
Proclaims himself the universal lord,
Does he not tremble lest the lion's paw
Should join his plea against the fancy'd law?
Would not the learned coward leave the chair,
If in the schools or porches should appear
The fierce hyæna or the foaming bear?
The combatant too late the field declines,
When now the sword is girded to his loins.
When the swift vessel flies before the wind,
Too late the sailor views the land behind:
And 'tis too late now back again to bring
Inquiry, rais'd and tow'ring on the wing;
Should never strive to rise nor never fear to fall?
When I reflect how the revolving sun
Does round our globe his crooked journies run,
I doubt of many lands if they contain
Or herd of beast or colony of man ;
If any nation pass their destin'd days
Beneath the neighb'ring sun's directer rays:
If any suffer, on the polar coast,
The rage of Arctos and eternal frost.
May not the pleasure of omnipotence
To each of these some secret good dispense?
Those who amidst the torrid regions live,
May they not gales unknown to us receive?
See daily show'rs rejoice the thirsty earth,
And bless the flow'ry buds' succeeding birth?
May they not pity us condemn'd to bear
The various heav'n of an obliquer sphere,
While by fix'd laws, and with a just return,
They feel twelve hours that shade for twelvethat burn,
And praise the neighb'ring sun, whose constant flame
Enlightens them with seasons still the same ?
And may not those whose distant lot is cast
North beyond Tartary's extended waste,
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