OF PARADISE, ETC.
Of Paradise ’tis sweet to dream,
And life beside the Elysian stream!
In flowery vales ’mong scenes above,
Why loves the fancy so to rove?
Why does man so berate the earth?
Are there no shrines for reverence here?
The Mother World that gave him birth
Has always been man’s sport and sneer.
Is Nature, then, so harsh and cold?
Has she no warmth, no love, no light?
Does she her children cuff and scold?
Are mankind, then, her special spite?
No, no! Earth loves her human brood!
Earth is a mother kind and good.
’Tis man alone—inglorious wretch!
Who would his parents’ name besmirch.
Love, then, the world! Is it not fair?
Could God design a brighter, cosier sphere.
Of clay, of water, wood and air?
Were man but just, what paradise were here!