Classic Poem

TAKING A VIEW OF MAN FROM THE SIDE OF HIS MISERIES .

See where the solitary creature stands,
Such as he issued out of Nature's hands;
No hopes he knows, no fears, no joys, no cares,
Nor pleasure's poison, nor ambition's snares;
But shares, from self-forg'd chains of life releast,
The forest-kingdom with his fellow beast.
Yes, all we see of thee is nature's part;
Thou art the creature's self; — the rest is art.
For thee, the skilful worm of specious hue,
No shining threads of ductile-radiance drew;
For thee no sun the ripening gem refin'd;
No bleating innocence the fleece resign'd:
The hand of luxury ne'er taught to pour
O'er thy faint limbs the oil's refreshing show'r:
His bed the flinty rock; his drink, his food,
The running brook, and berries of the wood.
What have we added to this plain account?
What passions? what desires? a huge amount!
Cloth'd, fed, warm'd, cool'd, each by his brother's toil,
We live upon the wide creation's spoil.
Quit, monarch, quit thy vain superfluous pride;
Lay all thy foreign ornaments aside:
Bid art no more its spurious gifts supply;
Be man, mere man; thirst, hunger, grieve, and die.