Page:The Seasons - Thomson (1791).djvu/155

 With music, image, sentiment, and thought, Never to die! the treasure of mankind! Their highest honour, and their truest joy!

thee what were unenlightened Man? A savage roaming thro' the woods and wilds In quest of prey; and with th' unfashion'd fur Rough clad; devoid of every finer art, And elegance of life. Nor happiness Domestic, mix'd of tenderness and care, Nor moral excellence, nor social bliss, Nor guardian law were his; nor various skill To turn the furrow, or to guide the tool Mechanic; nor the heaven-conducted prow Of navigation bold, that fearless braves The burning line or dares the wintry pole, Mother severe of infinite delights Nothing, save rapine, indolence, and guile, And woes on woes, a still-revolving train! Whose horrid circle had made human life Than non-existence worse: but, taught by thee Ours are the plans of policy, and peace; To live like brothers, and conjunctive all Embellish life. While thus laborious crouds Ply the though oar, directs The ruling helm; or like the liberal breath Of potent heaven, invisible, the sail Swells out, and bears th' inferior world along.