Not rude and surly, and beset with thorns,
And terrible to sight, as when she springs
(If e'er she spring spontaneous) in remote
And barb'rous climes, where violence prevails,
And strength is lord of all; but gentle, kind,
By culture tam'd, by liberty refresh'd,

And all her fruits by radiant truth matur❜d.
War and the chase engross the savage whole;
War follow'd for revenge, or to supplant
The envied tenants of some happier spot:
The chase for sustenance, precarious trust!
His hard condition with severe constraint
Binds all his faculties, forbids all growth
Of wisdom, proves a school, in which he learns.
Sly circumvention, unrelenting hate,

610

Mean self-attachment, and scarce aught beside. Thus fare the shiv'ring natives of the north,

And thus the rangers of the western world,

Where it advances far into the deep,

Tow'rds the antarctic. Ev'n the favour'd isles 620

So lately found, although the constant sun

Cheer all their seasons with a grateful smile,
Can boast but little virtue; and, inert
Through plenty, lose in morals what they gain

In manners-victims of luxurious ease.
These therefore I can pity, plac'd remote
From all, that science traces, art invents,
Or inspiration teaches; and enclos'd
In boundless oceans, never to be pass'd
By navigators uninform'd as they,

Or plough'd perhaps by British bark again.

But far beyond the rest, and with most cause,

d

Thee, gentle savage! whom no love of thee

Or thine, but curiosity perhaps,

Or else vainglory, prompted us to draw

630

Forth from thy native bow'rs, to show thee here

With what superior skill we can abuse

The gifts of Providence, and squander life.

& Omai.

The dream is past; and thou hast found again

Thy cocoas and bananas, palms and yams, 640 And homestall thatch'd with leaves. But hast

thou found

Their former charms? And, having seen our state,
Our palaces, our ladies, and our pomp

Of equipage, our gardens, and our sports,
And heard our music; are thy simple friends,
Thy simple fare, and all thy plain delights,
As dear to thee as once? And have thy joys
Lost nothing by comparison with ours?
Rude as thou art, (for we return'd thee rude
And ignorant, except of outward show)

I cannot think thee yet so dull of heart

And spiritless, as never to regret

Sweets tasted here, and left as soon as known.
Methinks I see thee straying on the beach,

And asking of the surge, that bathes thy foot,
If ever it has wash'd our distant shore.

I sce thee weep, and thine are honest tears,

650

A patriot's for his country: thou art sad

At thought of her forlorn and abject state,
From which no pow'r of thine can raise her up.
Thus Fancy paints thee, and, though apt to err,
Perhaps errs little, when she paints thee thus. 662
She tells me too, that duly ev'ry morn

Thou climb'st the mountain top, with eager eye
Exploring far and wide the wat'ry waste,
For sight of ship from England. Ev'ry speck
Seen in the dim horizon turns thee pale
With conflict of contending hopes and fears.
But comes at last the dull and dusky eve,
And sends thee to thy cabin, well-prepar'd,
To dream all night of what the day denied.
Alas! expect it not. We found no bait
To tempt us in thy country. Doing good,
Disinterested good, is not our trade.

We travel far 'tis true, but not for nought;
And must be brib'd to compass Earth again
By other hopes and richer fruits than yours.

670

But though true worth and virtue in the mild

And genial soil of cultivated life

Thrive most, and may perhaps thrive only there,

Yet not in cities oft: in proud, and gay,
And gain-devoted cities. Thither flow,

As to a common and most noisome sewer,
The dregs and feculence of ev'ry land.
In cities foul example on most minds

Begets it's likeness. Rank abundance breeds,
In gross and pamper'd cities, sloth, and lust,
And wantonness, and gluttonous excess.

In cities vice is hidden with most ease,

681

Or seen with least reproach; and virtue, taught By frequent lapse, can hope no triumph there 691 Beyond th' achievement of successful flight.

I do confess them nurs'ries of the arts,

In which they flourish most; where, in the beams Of warm encouragement, and in the eye

Of public note, they reach their perfect size. Such London is, by taste and wealth proclaim'd