Not heav'nly wisdom, only, is with-held,
But the free bounty of the self-sown field:
No more, as erst, from Nature's ready feast,
Rises the satisfy'd, but temp'rate guest:
Cast wild abroad, no happy mean preserves;
By choice he surfeits, by constraint he starves:
Toils life away upon the stubborn plain,
T' extort from thence the slow reluctant grain;
The slow reluctant grain, procur'd to-day,
His less industrious neighbour steals away:
Hence fists and clubs the village-peace confound,
Till sword and cannon spread the ruin round;
For time and art but bring from bad to worse:
Unequal lots succeed unequal force,
Each lot a several curse. Hence rich, and poor:
This pines, and dies neglected at the door;
While gouts and fevers wait the loaded mess,
And take full vengeance for the poor's distress.