Herds range the fields, the feather'd kind the grove,
Chuse, woo, caress, and with promiscuous love,
As taste and nature prompt, adhere, or rove;
They meet with pleasure, and with ease they part,
For beasts are only coupled by the heart.
The body still accompanies the mind,
And when this wanders, that is unconfin'd:
The love that join'd the sated pair once fled,
They change their haunts, their pasture, and their bed.
No four-legg'd ideots drag, with mutual pain,
The nat'ral cement pass'd, an artful chain:
Th' effect of passion ceases with the cause,
Clogg'd with no after-weight of forms or laws:
To no dull rules of custom they submit,
Like us they cool, but when they cool, they quit.