WHY, ye tenants of the lake, For me your watery haunts forsake? Tell me, fellow-creatures, why At my presence thus you fly? Parent, filial, kindred ties ?- Nature's gifts to all are free: Busy feed, or wanton lave; Or, beneath the sheltering rock, Bide the surging billow's shock. Conscious, blushing for our race, Would be Lord of all below: Plumes himself in freedom's pride, The eagle, from the cliffy brow, But man, to whom alone is given. And creatures for his pleasure slain. Where the mossy rivulet strays, Far from human haunts and ways; All on nature you depend, And life's poor season peaceful spend. Or, if man's superior might Dare invade your native right, On the lofty ether borne, Man with all his powers you scorn: Swiftly seek, on clanging wings, Other lakes and other springs ; And the foe you cannot brave, |