 | Lyra Pastoralis |  |
A Plea for the Sea-Birds
Stay now thine hand!
Proclaim not man's dominion
Over God's works by strewing rocks and sand
With sea-birds' blood-stain'd plume and broken pinion.
Proclaim not man's dominion
Over God's works by strewing rocks and sand
With sea-birds' blood-stain'd plume and broken pinion.
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Oh, stay thine hand!
Spend not thy days of leisure
In scattering death along the peaceful strand,
For very wantonness, or pride, or pleasure.
Spend not thy days of leisure
In scattering death along the peaceful strand,
For very wantonness, or pride, or pleasure.
For bird's sake, spare!
Leave it in happy motion
To wheel its easy circles through the air,
Or rest and rock upon the shining ocean.
Leave it in happy motion
To wheel its easy circles through the air,
Or rest and rock upon the shining ocean.
For man's sake, spare!
Leave him this “thing of beauty”
To glance and glide before him everywhere,
And throw a gleam on after-days of duty.
Leave him this “thing of beauty”
To glance and glide before him everywhere,
And throw a gleam on after-days of duty.
For God's sake, spare!
He notes each sea-bird falling,
And in Creation's groans marks its sad share—
Its dying cry—for retribution calling.
He notes each sea-bird falling,
And in Creation's groans marks its sad share—
Its dying cry—for retribution calling.
Oh, stay thine hand!
Cease from this useless slaughter—
For though kind Nature from the rocks and sand
Washes the stains each day with briny water;—
Cease from this useless slaughter—
For though kind Nature from the rocks and sand
Washes the stains each day with briny water;—
Yet on thine hand,
Raised against God's fair creature,
Beware lest there be found a crimson brand
Indelible by any force of Nature.
Raised against God's fair creature,
Beware lest there be found a crimson brand
Indelible by any force of Nature.
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