The Poetical Works of Anna Seward :: :: University of Virginia Library

“The beasts that perish.”—Those few words are shown
On the dread pages of inspir'd Record,
By Man, proud Man! as he were doom'd alone
To meet, for guiltless pains, supreme reward.

Yet knows he well, that on the leaves divine,
Oft from the seeming sense we must refrain,
And, lest warm Hope consistency resign,
The letter wave, the spirit to obtain.

For Brutal Life, while reasoning we explore
The text misconstru'd much, it but declares
That Man's free thoughts, and deeds import him more,
Since this, his state of trial, is not theirs.

To earthly life he perishes;—but here
The vast momentous difference is implied,
He perishes accountable—aware
That choice was given, and reason for its guide.

I mark the tones of arrogance exclaim,
“Since they are form'd incapable of sin,
“Of innocence instinctive where's the claim?
“It well may be as it had never been”

True, if permitted ills did ne'er oppress,
If certain as their innocence, their peace,
With the short date of being Brutes possess,
Heaven might ordain their consciousness should cease:

Yet not infringe those never altering laws
Of equity and mercy, which combin'd
To form the essence of th' Eternal Cause,
Judge, Guardian, Friend of all existing kind.

But since full oft the pangs of dire disease,
Labour, and famine, and oppression hard,
From cruel Man, the blameless victims seize;
Of Heavenly Justice they may claim reward.

Alas! the dumb defenceless numbers, found
The wretched subjects of a tyrant's sway,

Who hourly feel his unresisted wound,
And hungry pine through many a weary day;

Or those, of lot more barbarously severe,
Who strain their weak, lame limbs beneath the load
Their fainting strength is basely doom'd to bear,
While smites the lash, the steely torments goad;

Has God decreed this helpless, suffering train
Shall groaning yield the vital breath he gave,
Unrecompens'd for years of want, and pain,
And close on them the portals of the grave?

Ah, no! the great Retributory Mind
Will recompense, and may perhaps ordain
Some future mode of being, more refin'd
Than ours, less sullied with inherent stain;

Less torn by passion, and less prone to sin,
Their duty easier, trial less severe,
Till their firm faith, and virtue prov'd, may win
The wreaths of Life in yon Eternal Sphere.

This then may form the much rewarding doom;—
But O! whate'er the nature of the meed,
Theirs it must be; then let us now presume
Their guiltless cause, on other grounds, to plead.

Suppose permitted ills did not oppress,
That certain as their innocence, their peace,
And thus, that with the Being they possess,
Sensation might, without injustice, cease;

Yet still, proud Man! in this scorn'd tribe below
Shall more than innocence thy pride impede,
Nature, where all the generous ardours glow,
And action, vying with thy noblest deed.

If strength, if grace, if magnitude of frame,
To give the dignifying power must fail,
If not from them proceeds the sacred claim,
That lifts the creature on creation's scale;

If mind shall ever be to form preferr'd,
Courage to force, to beauty sentiment,
One Brute, at least, has powers, by heaven conferr'd,
That for a doom oblivious were not lent.

Ah! what but Heaven-born sentiment corrects,
Refines,—adorns,—ennobles being? still
From the contagious taint of vice protects,
Controuls the organs, and exalts the will?

This should'st thou feel, perforce then shalt thou see,
That animal perfection must depend,

Human and Brute alike, on the degree
In which the lights of sentiment extend.

In Brutal life if exquisite they prove,
If Education may increase their force,
If fond, intelligent, and faithful love
Rise in the breast, and strengthen on its course;

If, in a silent servitude to man,
Energic friendship burns with generous strife,
Say, can'st thou deem thy Dog's short, vital span
Stopt on the confines of eternal life?

His natural temper fervent, choleric, fierce,
Nay bloody, see, by sentiment subdued!
Subdued, for thee, to every soft reverse,
For thee, in all its native rage renew'd!

When unattach'd, and yet to Man unknown,
Wolfish and wild, the wilderness he roves;
Bays with his horrid howl the silent moon,
And stalks the terror of the desert groves.

Yet mark this heart of savage enterprise,
Moulded by thee to all that's kind and sweet;
See him approach with mild, imploring eyes,
And lay his strength and courage at thy feet!

Charm'd to exchange them for the soft delights
Of growing love, his duteous head he lays
Light on thy knee;—his lifted eye invites
The wish'd command, which instant he obeys.

At that known voice, with ardour, up he springs,
And in the joy of usefulness elate,
With gladden'd haste th' endear'd commission brings,
Or drives intruding vagrants from thy gate.

Thy wealth, thy person, anxious to protect,
And gentle only to thy frequent friends,
Nor bribe, nor flattery gain his coy respect,
Useless the flattery, and the bribe offends!

When Night broods sullen o'er the drowsy earth,
Though faint with mid-day toil, he scorns repose,
Leaves the warm comforts of the ember'd hearth,
To guard thy slumbers, and appal thy foes;

Watchful and listening, walks his silent rounds,
Scenting the lurking stranger from afar,
And, if he pass the interdicted bounds,
The loud, indignant bark proclaims the war.

Or Beast,—or Man,—is he to prey devote?
With fangs terrific, and with burning eyes,

Rushes thy brave protector on his throat,
And low in blood the dark destroyer lies!

But yet, if fear resign what theft supplied,
He, pitying, from the prostrate foe recoils.—
Mark then the victor, great in honest pride,
Content with conquest, rest upon his spoils!

Though high in health, the pleas of hunger strong
In tempting opportunity arise,
Generously proud, he scorns his trust to wrong,
And all untouch'd the prey he rescu'd lies.

Vainly do night and secrecy accord,
This sacred sense of honour to controul!
Can human records fairer proof afford,
Of all that elevates a thinking soul?

Exempt the nuptial, and the filial ties,
Hast thou one Friend amongst the reasoning kind,
On whom thy secret heart for truth relies
Thus ardent, noble, constant and refin'd?

To selfish passions thus superior found,
Whom neither interest sways, nor arts beguile?
To thee, in faith and trust, unfaultering bound,
Thy will his law, his happiness thy smile.

Ah, wretch ingrate, to liberal hope unknown!
Does pride encrust thee in so dark a leaven,
To deem this spirit, purer than thine own,
Sinks, while thou soarest to the light of Heaven?

What though, when Reason all her power displays,
Drawn from philosophy's most copious source,
Too subtle proves creation's endless maze
For her best skill, to mighty for her force;

Or, when she tries the mystery to explain
Of the tremendous Expiatory Plan,
Shows, only shows, how arrogant, how vain
Such needless, daring scrutiny in Man;

Yet, while Almighty Wisdom thus appears
To human powers inscrutably sublime,
Her gracious form Almighty Justice rears,
Unveil'd, unchanging through the rounds of time.

Hear, from the centre of the Eternal Throne,
Her awful voice the fix'd award disclose,
If evils over guiltless life are strewn,
The God, who gave that life, will recompense its woes.