HUS, like a sailor by a tempeft hurld
Alhore, the babe is thipwreck'd on the world:
Naked he lies, and ready to expire ;
Helpless of all that human wants require ;
Expos'd upon unhospitable earth,
From the first moment of his hapless birth.
Straight with foreboding cries he fills the room;
Too true presages of his future doom.
But flocks and herds, and every savage beast,
By more indulgent nature are increas'd.
They want no rattles for their froward mood,
Nor nurse to reconcile them to their food,
With broken words; nor winter blasts they fear,
Nor change their habits with the changing year :
Nor, for their safety, citadels prepare,
Nor forge the wicked initruments of war:
Unlabour'd earth her bounteous treasure grants,
And Nature's lavish hand supplies their common wants,