Content and rural happiness.
Where far retir’d from life’s dull form
Comes no intruder but the storm;
The storm, that with contrasted low’r
Endears the fair the silent hour.
Thus their wise days our fathers led,
Fleet ran their hounds, their arrows sped,
And jocund Health with rosy smile
Look’d on, companion of their toil:
Till tyrant Law usurp’d the land,