THE
BODY-POLITIC
.
If
in
the
Body-politic
you
see
Rebellion
,
rapine
,
bloodshed
,
anarchy
,
That
state
you
say
is
lost
!
So
when
you
find
The
body
human
with
distemper'd
mind
,
The
blood
corrupted
,
and
the
fever
high
,
You
doubt
not
to
pronounce
—
that
man
must
die
.
Now
in
the
way
of
Fable
we'll
suppose
Rebellion
in
the
human
frame
arose
;
Each
member
loudly
sounded
forth
his
merit
,
And
cried
,
t'
obey
the
Head
shew'd
want
of
spirit
,
'Twas
time
the
Limbs
should
now
assert
their
part
,
And
overturn
the
empire
of
the
Heart
.
The
stubborn
Knees
declar'd
no
more
they'd
bend
For
God
or
King
,
nor
any
strength
would
lend
To
bear
a
Head
of
such
unwieldy
size
;
To
hear
and
see
requir'd
not
Ears
and
Eyes
;
All
parts
were
equal
,
and
had
each
a
right
T'
assume
the
gift
of
hearing
and
of
sight
.
Whereat
the
Feet
stept
forth
with
furious
sound
Stamping
and
swearing
they'd
not
touch
the
ground
;
Henceforth
aloft
they'd
rise
erect
in
air
,
And
make
the
daintier
Hands
the
burden
bear
.
This
said
,
the
Hands
indignant
caught
th'
alarm
,
And
struggling
tried
to
separate
from
the
Arm
;
Aloud
they
clapp'd
,
and
summon'd
all
to
fight
To
fix
their
freedom
,
and
enforce
their
right
.
And
now
Convulsion
seiz'd
on
every
part
,
Loud
beat
each
Pulse
,
and
terror
shook
the
Heart
;
Within
was
heard
a
horrid
noise
and
rout
,
The
Inside
claim'd
the
right
to
be
the
Out
.
The
Lungs
protested
they'd
not
draw
the
breath
;
They
car'd
not
if
it
brought
on
instant
death
;
'Twere
better
all
were
lost
than
they
denied
The
right
to
hold
a
share
in
the
Outside
.
The
Stomach
roar'd
he
soon
wou'd
stop
digestion
,
If
e'er
his
outside
right
was
call'd
in
question
:
The
Veins
declar'd
they'd
not
perform
their
part
,
Nor
longer
throw
the
blood
up
to
the
Heart
;
The
Heart
might
feed
itself
,
or
yield
it's
place
To
those
,
who'd
fill
it
with
a
better
grace
.
On
this
the
Liver
writh'd
himself
around
,
And
swore
that
long
,
though
rotten
and
unsound
,
He'd
sought
that
place
;
he
now
would
seize
the
throne
.
For
he
was
fit
to
rule
,
and
he
alone
.
This
rous'd
the
Spleen
,
who
on
the
vitals
fed
,
Planning
by
craft
the
downfal
of
the
Head
;
But
now
o'ercharg'd
with
envy
,
rage
,
and
guile
,
In
haste
he
rose
,
and
overset
the
Bile
.
Thus
all
within
was
agony
and
strife
,
Each
fresh
convulsion
seem'd
to
threaten
life
;
The
Limbs
distorted
rise
—
they
give
the
blow
,
And
soon
the
Head
(
so
honour'd
once
)
lay
low
.
And
now
behold
the
Body's
wretched
state
,
Taught
by
this
sad
example
,
ere
too
late
,
That
such
each
Body-politic
must
be
,
Where
foul
rebellion
reigns
and
anarchy
.