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In the primeval age a dateless while
The vacant Shepherd wandered with his flock,
Pitching his tent where'er the green grass waved.
But soon Imagination conjured up
A host of new desires : with busy aim,
Each for himself, Earth's eager children toiled.
So Property began, twy-streaming fount,
Whence Vice and Virtue flow, honey and gall.
Hence the soft couch, and many-coloured robe,
The timbrel, and arch'd dome and costly feast,
With all the inventive arts, that nursed the soul
To forms of beauty, and by sensual wantsution
Unsensualized the mind which in
Learnt to forget the grossness of the tit

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the lid wees P. I Best pleasured with its own activitysoit. And hence Disease that withers manhood's arm, The daggered Envy, spirit-quenching Want, Warriors, and Lords, and Priests—all the sore ills That vex and desolate our mortal life. Wide-wasting ills ! yet each the immediate source Of mightier good. Their keen necessities To ceaseless action goading human thought Have made Earth’s reasoning animal her Lord ; And the pale-featured Sage's trembling hand Strong as a host of armed Deities, Such as the blind Ionian fabled erst.

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From avarice thus, from luxury and war, Sprang heavenly science; and from science freedom. O'er wakened realms Philosophers and Bards

Spread in concentric circles : they whose souls,
Conscious of their high dignities from God,
Brook not wealth's rivalry! and they who long
Enamoured with the charms of order hate
The unseemly disproportion : and whoe'er
Turn with mild sorrow from the victor's car
And the low puppetry of thrones, to muse
On that blest triumph, when the patriot Sage
Called the red lightnings from the o'er-rushing

cloud
And dashed the beauteous terrors on the earth
Smiling majestic. Such a phalanx ne'er
Measured firm paces to the calming sound
Of Spartan flute! These on the fated day,
When, stung to rage by pity, eloquent men
Have roused with pealing voice the unnumbered

tribes That toil and groan and bleed, hungry and blind, These hushed awhile with patient eye serene Shall watch the mad careering of the storm ; Then o'er the wild and wavy chaos rush And tame the outrageous mass, with plastic might Moulding confusion to such perfect forms As erst were wont-bright visions of the day !-To float before them, when, the summer noon, Beneath some arch'd romantic rock reclined, They felt the sea-breeze lift their youthful locks; Or in the month of blossoms, at mild eve, Wandering with desultory feet, inhaled The wafted perfumes, and the flocks and woods,

And many-tinted streams, and setting sun,
With all his gorgeous company of clouds,
Ecstatic gazed! then homeward as they strayed
Cast the sad eye to earth, and inly mused
Why there was misery in a world so fair.
Ah! far removed from all that glads the sense,
From all that softens or ennobles Man,
The wretched Many! Bent beneath their loads
They gape at pageant Power, nor recognize
Their cots' transmuted plunder! From the tree
Of Knowledge, ere the vernal sap had risen,
Rudely disbranched! Blest Society !
Fitliest depictured by some sun-scorched waste,
Where oft majestic through the tainted noon
The Simoom sails, before whose purple pomp
Who falls not prostrate dies ! And where by night,
Fast by each precious fountain on green herbs
The lion couches; or hyæna dips
Deep in the lucid stream his bloody jaws;
Or serpent plants his vast moon-glittering bulk,
Caught in whose monstrous twine Behemoth* yells,
His bones loud-crashing !

O ye numberless, Whom foul oppression's ruffian gluttony (wretch Drives from life's plenteous feast ! O thou poor

* Behemoth, in Hebrew, signifies wild beasts in general. Some believe it is the elephant, some the hippopotamus; soine affirm it is the wild bull. Poetically, it designates any large quadruped.

Who, nursed in darkness and made wild by want,
Roamest for prey, yea thy unnatural hand
Dost lift to deeds of blood ! O pale-eyed form,
The victim of seduction, doomed to know
Polluted nights and days of blasphemy;
Who in loathed orgies with lewd wassailers
Must gaily laugh, while thy remembered home
Gnaws like a viper at thy secret heart!
O aged women! ye who weekly catch
The morsel tossed by law-forced charity,
And die so slowly, that none call it murder!
O loathly suppliants! ye, that unreceived
Totter heart-broken from the closing gates
Of the full Lazar-house: or, gazing, stand
Sick with despair! O ye to glory's field
Forced or ensna

snared, who, as ye gasp in death, Bleed with new wounds beneath the vulture's

beak ! O thou poor widow, who in dreams dost view Thy husband's mangled corse, and from short doze Start'st with a shriek; or in thy half-thatched cot, Waked by the wintry night-storm, wet and cold, Cow'r'st o'er thy screaming baby! Rest awhile, Children of wretchedness! More groans must

rise, More blood must stream, or ere your wrongs be

full.
Yet is the day of retribution nigh :
The Lamb of God hath opened the fifth seal :
And upward rush on swiftest wing of fire

The innumerable multitude of Wrongs
By man on man inflicted! Rest awhile,
Children of wretchedness! The hour is nigh ;
And lo! the great, the rich, the mighty Men,
The Kings and the chief Captains of the World,
With all that fixed on high like stars of Heaven
Shot baleful influence, shall be cast to earth,
Vile and down-trodden, as the untimely fruit
Shook from the fig-tree by a sudden storm.
Even now the storm begins :* each gentle name,
Faith and meek Piety, with fearful joy
Tremble far-off—for lo ! the giant Frenzy,
Uprooting empires with his whirlwind arm,
Mocketh high Heaven ; burst hideous from the

cell
Where the old Hag, unconquerable, huge,
Creation's eyeless drudge, black ruin, sits
Nursing the impatient earthquake.

O return ! Pure Faith! meek Piety! The abhorred Form Whose scarlet robe was stiff with earthly pomp, Who drank iniquity in cups of gold, Whose names were many and all blasphemous, Hath met the horrible judgment! Whence that

cry?

The mighty army of foul Spirits shrieked Disherited of earth! For she hath fallen

* Alluding to the French Revolution.

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