An Economist
The serene savage sitting in his tree
Saw empires rise and fall,
And moralized on their uncertainty.
(He never rose at all!)
He was full fat from god-sent droves of prey;
He was full calm from satisfied desire;
He was full wise in that he chose to stay
Free from ambition’s fire.
“See,” quoth the savage, “how they toil and strive
To make things better,—vain and idle wish!
Here is good store of what keeps man alive,
Of fruit, and flesh, and fish.
“Poor discontented wretches, fed on air,
Seeking to change the normal lot of man,
To lure him from this natural strife and care,
With vague Utopian plan!
“Here’s wealth and joy—why seek for any change?
Why labor for a more elaborate life?
As if God could not his own world arrange
Without our fretful strife!
“Those who complain of savagery as low
Are merely proven lazy, and too weak
To live by skilful hunt and deadly blow;
It is their needs that speak.
“Complain of warfare! Cry that peace is sweet!
Complain of hunting! Prate of toil and trade!
It only proves that they cannot compete
In the free life we’ve made.”
Another empire reeled into its grave;
The savage sat serenely as before,
As calm and wise, as cunning and as brave—
Never an atom more.