To flocks and herds attack by beasts of prey Was a nightly scare; it has passed away. They are secured from that, or lack of food, Since their extinction would lose Man a good. But kinds that neither can resist a raid, Nor have the right to call Man to their aid, What for them but death, if worth while as spoil, Or sharp riddance, cumberers of the soil? Such final dooms as these may well have struck A multitude of kinds out of life’s book; And Earth, as women, fills not gaps; her stage Of maternity obeys laws of age. Not Man, first-born of Earth, of those that fail; Child of a lusty mother, hard and hale; Built on a frame-work of big, solid bone, With tough sinews to weld the flesh in one; Not made with heat to faint, or cold to freeze, To sicken with strange meat, or by disease. Men led wandering wild beasts’ lives; the sun Had revolutions numberless to run Ere they harrowed fields, guided the curved ploughs, Planted young orchards, or lopped rotting boughs. Meanwhile they gathered Earth’s alms, well content With the chance harvests sunshine, showers sent; Though food on which our ancestors relied Was that the boundless woods of oak supplied. Acorns were their mainstay, with, in large store, Berries that young Earth’s teeming fallows bore. They felt not how miserable they were; For Nature pitied, and gave ample fare. To slake thirst they but had to track the sound Of torrents tumbling from great hills around— A call their fellows, the wild beasts, knew well. And oft a man would linger in some cell Of Wood-Nymph invited by the cool air, Since thence broke springs unfailing. Here and there They bubbled round rocks, loitering to play With each; then would awhile sleep on their way In soft green moss, before all joined, to flow, One easy gliding stream, to the smooth plain below. As yet men had not learned to tan a skin Robbed from some beast, and dress themselves therein. Forest, or mountain cave, was the sole home— If that,—they knew. When, as they chanced to roam, A storm burst, rain, or whirlwind, they would lie, Grimy, in the thick scrub, till it passed by. Each one was for himself; none of them could Rise to an idea of common good; “Custom”, “Morals”, things unknown; and what use In laws, when no act required an excuse? Aught a man saw, and liked, he took; so long As none other saw, liked, and was as strong. The only need, a standard how to test Animal worth—live as fitted that best. Savage love, although not without its storms, Was simpler than ours, direct, free from forms. If two agreed in those natural days, They wedded, as were weddings; went their ways. Were he willing, not she, he won consent With a stick: and she had to be content. When rich the wooer, quick the bargain made, And the price in acorns, or berries paid. In our times, though passion may burn, its flame We call discreetly by some other name;