Whate'er of earth is formed, to earth returns Dissolved: the various objects we behold, Plants, animals, this whole material mass, Are ever changing, ever new. The soul Of man alone, that particle divine, Escapes the wreck of worlds, when all things fail. Hence great the distance 'twixt the beasts that perish, And God's bright image, man's immortal race. The brute creation are his property, Subservient to his will, and for him made. _10 As hurtful these he kills, as useful those Preserves; their sole and arbitrary king. Should he not kill, as erst the Samian sage Taught unadvised, and Indian Brahmins now As vainly preach; the teeming ravenous brutes Might fill the scanty space of this terrene, Encumbering all the globe: should not his care Improve his growing stock, their kinds might fail, Man might once more on roots, and acorns, feed, And through the deserts range, shivering, forlorn, _20 Quite destitute of every solace dear, And every smiling gaiety of life. The prudent huntsman, therefore, will supply, With annual large recruits, his broken pack, And propagate their kind. As from the root Fresh scions still spring forth, and daily yield New blooming honours to the parent-tree; Far shall his pack be famed, far sought his breed, And princes at their tables feast those hounds His hand presents, an acceptable boon. _30 Ere yet the Sun through the bright Ram has urged His steepy course, or mother Earth unbound Her frozen bosom to the western gale; When feathered troops, their social leagues dissolved, Select their mates, and on the leafless elm The noisy rook builds high her wicker nest; Mark well the wanton females of thy pack, That curl their taper tails, and frisking court Their pyebald mates enamoured; their red eyes Flash fires impure; nor rest, nor food they take, _40 Goaded by furious love. In separate cells Confine them now, lest bloody civil wars Annoy thy peaceful state. If left at large, The growling rivals in dread battle join, And rude encounter. On Scamander's streams Heroes of old with far less fury fought, For the bright Spartan dame, their valour's prize. Mangled and torn thy favourite hounds shall lie, Stretched on the ground; thy kennel shall appear A field of blood: like some unhappy town _50 In civil broils confused, while Discord shakes Her bloody scourge aloft, fierce parties rage, Staining their impious hands in mutual death. And still the best beloved, and bravest fall: Such are the dire effects of lawless love. Huntsman! these ills by timely prudent care Prevent: for every longing dame select Some happy paramour; to him alone In leagues connubial join. Consider well His lineage; what his fathers did of old, _60 Chiefs of the pack, and first to climb the rock, Or plunge into the deep, or thread the brake With thorns sharp-pointed, plashed, and briers inwoven.