On Scaring some Water-Fowl in Lock Turit

13 Conscious, blushing for our race,

14Soon, too soon, your fears I trace,

15Man, your proud, usurping foe,

16Would be lord of all below:

17Plumes himself in freedom’s pride,

18Tyrant stern to all beside.

19 The eagle, from the cliffy brow,

20Marking you his prey below,

21In his breast no pity dwells,

22Strong necessity compels:

23But Man, to whom alone is giv’n

24A ray direct from pitying Heav’n,

25Glories in his heart humane—

26And creatures for his pleasure slain!

27 In these savage, liquid plains,

28Only known to wand’ring swains,

29Where the mossy riv’let strays,

30Far from human haunts and ways;

31All on Nature you depend,

32And life’s poor season peaceful spend.

33 Or, if man’s superior might

34Dare invade your native right,

35On the lofty ether borne,

36Man with all his pow’rs you scorn;

37Swiftly seek, on clanging wings,

38Other lakes and other springs;

39And the foe you cannot brave,

40Scorn at least to be his slave.